“And if the Spirit of Him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, He who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies because of His Spirit who lives in you.” Romans 8:11 NIV
Addictions
You would think that after having reared this many children, I would know how to help my youngest break up with his pacifier. I don’t. He’s almost two. None of the older kids dealt with this particular addiction.
This child can’t fall asleep without his pacifier. He used to contentedly take any pacifier that we gave him, but now he only wants a specific pacifier at a specific time. The nature of addictions is this: They get worse over time.
I look forward to the day when the view of my son’s face is not invaded by a plastic thing sticking out. I do not look forward to the process it will take to get there.
I know that the only way to actually get through any kind of grief is to actually go through the grief. I also know that most people find ways to avoid their internal pains and grief whenever we bump up against them. We avoid by way of an addiction or a distraction.
To choose to face grief head on and walk through it is the hardest thing to do. It is the example we have from Jesus when He suffered, did not fight back or defend himself, felt agony to its fullest extent, died for us and spent three days buried.
To watch our children go through their own grief and not rush in to rescue them is even harder. But this is the example God the Father gave at Calvary, to the point where Jesus cried out, “Why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46). But God the Father had to allow Jesus to suffer and die if there was ever to be a resurrection.
Two nights ago, my son woke up in the middle of the night and cried for his pacifier. I took him one of four that are exactly alike. He sucked on it for a second then decided it was not the right one. I gave him another. There was something wrong with that one, too. Finally, in frustration, I thought, “I could grope around in the dark until I find the one he spit out in the first place, or I can walk away.” So I said, “All done, goodnight.” He cried as I walked out and closed the door. I hate it when he cries.
But even more than that, I hate having something dictate our lives that was never meant to dictate our lives. And you know what? I have a feeling my son is going to be just fine.
Dear Heavenly Father, thank You for never leaving us alone in our grief, but for carrying us through. We could never make it to the healing side without You. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.