Leave Tomorrow Alone

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I love each and every one of my children, with their unique and varied personalities. Growing up with two younger sisters, I always wondered how my Mom and Dad loved each of us the same. And I probably questioned that many times as a teenager. But now, I get it. Each of our children have different needs; therefore, we relate to each of them in different ways. But the level of love is equal, yet unique to that child.

Our youngest is no exception to this. But our love for him seems magnified many times over. And I think our other three children get it. They actually feel the exact same way. We are all incredibly fierce about our love for him. His vulnerability opened each of our hearts to this overwhelmingly tender love for him.

A protective love.

Because He needs us.

The many ways he needs us are great. Physically, to care for him, help him, move him, change him, bathe him. Honestly, the list of ways we care for him physically is long. But what really pulls on the heart strings are the many ways he needs us emotionally. We are security for him. He only needs but to look at us to know everything is going to be ok. We help him interpret the world around him when its get confusing or overwhelming to him. We help him express what he’s feeling. We give him a hand when he needs reassurance.

It’s this deep need and vulnerability that wraps itself around your heart and threatens to break it. It also forces unbidden questions to the surface. How could anyone ever care for him the way we do? Who will care for him when we are gone? Will he outlive us? What happens when we are no longer able to care for him? If I am being honest, I literally burst into tears every time I think about these things. So, I’m superb at shoving them down deep into my being and keeping a very tight lid on them.

I can’t live in the “what if’s.”

We don’t know how long he will live. It’s anyone’s guess. And every single person with Spina Bifida is different. Sure, there are things we monitor and modern medical miracles help sustain his life. But, ultimately, God has numbered his days and we rest in that fact.

We don’t know how long we will live. We function as a team. Johnnie now sees himself as a third party to our marriage, which has morphed into its own entity. To be honest, he’s right. That’s how much he needs us. The thought of any part of that unit breaking off is gut-wrenchingly difficult to think about.

This is where I fall back on my faith and lean in with all my might. I have a choice. I either trust God with my tomorrow, with Johnnie’s tomorrow, or I don’t.

I have to leave tomorrow alone.

Jesus Himself said, with a hundred percent accuracy, in Matthew 6:34, “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”

Right above that, Jesus says that we don’t need to worry about what we will eat or what we will wear. If God cares for birds of the air and clothes the flowers of the field, He will certainly take care of us, the very people He created in His image. Besides, “which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?”

I can’t. You can’t.

This is one of those crazy things. Living with our youngest has forced us to stare death in the eyes. It’s also forced us to live in the moment because so much is beyond our control. But I wouldn’t trade it.

It’s that daily living and that daily dying.

“If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it” (Luke 9:23-24).

Daily letting go and looking to Him.

If you are holding on to tomorrow. Fears. Worries. Anxieties. Let them go. Not a single one of us is even guaranteed a tomorrow.

Look to Him today and leave tomorrow alone.