I called an old friend of mine a few days ago. We hadn’t talked for awhile. The news from her end was sobering, to say the least. Her 53 year old husband has recently been diagnosed with acute renal failure. He is undergoing dialysis 3 times weekly and is facing a kidney transplant. Life can certainly change abruptly.


One of the things I asked her about was how was SHE doing? Most folks wonder about how the patient is doing, but caregiver burnout is very real, as many of us know firsthand. It doesn’t minimize the fear and discomfort of the patient, but my friend’s life has certainly changed dramatically as well. Her hopes, fears and feelings are as real as his… nothing will ever be the same for either one of them.


And so it is when we parent tough kids. We have hopes, dreams and expectations, and depending on the health of our children, those hopes, dreams and expectations might be radically altered. I remember one time when I asked Amy point blank why her life was so different from the lives of the other kids? She didn’t really answer me, but instead retorted, “I’m certainly not Beth, the adopted daughter you always wanted!”


For once, I was speechless. I had no clue how to respond to that. I really didn’t have a defined description of “the adopted daughter I always wanted!” What I wanted, quite simply, were daughters. Lots of them. And sons too, if it worked out that way. I really didn’t care how they arrived. I was more than happy to let them be individuals… I just wanted a relationship with them.


But it was not to be with her. And it hurts.


Stephanie’s boyfriend Sean recently said he doesn’t believe God would make a person totally without passion. He can’t believe she has no passion whatsoever. Stephanie responded that she had never seen anything, ever, that motivated Amy. Neither has anyone else in the family. But I hope Sean is right.


I know this thread is a downer, so I’ll quit now. But it hurts.