{"id":6800,"date":"2016-03-29T06:07:21","date_gmt":"2016-03-29T12:07:21","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/?p=6800"},"modified":"2016-04-21T18:37:18","modified_gmt":"2016-04-22T00:37:18","slug":"your-role-in-a-loved-ones-struggle","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/2016\/03\/29\/your-role-in-a-loved-ones-struggle\/","title":{"rendered":"Your Role in a Loved One’s Struggle"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"DSC_0869\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\u201cOh, why you look so sad?
\n<\/em>Tears are in your eyes
\n<\/em>Come on and come to me now.
\n<\/em>Don't be ashamed to cry
\n<\/em>Let me see you through
\n<\/em>'cause I've seen the dark side too.\u201d
\n<\/em>\u2013The Pretenders<\/em><\/p>\n

When we moved<\/a> to a new state almost\u00a0two years ago, I knew there would be challenging moments for my daughters, then eleven and eight years old. We\u2019d gone from a school where they knew everyone to a school where they knew no one. Even swim team, which my older daughter excelled in for many years, was drastically different. She went from a family-friendly year-round program at the YMCA to a large, competitive program with the area\u2019s most elite swimmers. I can vividly recall two moments during the first year in our new state when I saw my older daughter\u2019s pain and wanted to spare her from it.<\/p>\n

The first moment was when her beloved teacher abruptly left the classroom one day and never came back. For personal reasons, the teacher was not able to say goodbye to the students. I can still hear my daughter\u2019s guttural cries wondering why her teacher left them.<\/p>\n

The second moment was in the final championship of a divisional swim meet. Earlier that day, my daughter missed the cut off for finals by one spot in the 50-meter breaststroke event. We were informed that she could come back that evening as an alternate. This meant she\u2019d warm up as if she was going to swim and report to the starting blocks when her event was called. When the first whistle sounded, she would quickly scan the blocks. If a block was empty, she was to quickly jump up on the block and swim the race.<\/p>\n

Just the thought of this agonizing process made my palms sweat!\u00a0As a cautious planner with the tendency to worry, I was surprised my daughter wanted to put herself in such an unpredictable situation. But she did. I\u2019ll never forget standing next to her as her eyes frantically scanned the blocks, her hands clasped nervously in hopes of there being an empty spot.<\/p>\n

When there wasn\u2019t, I saw her shoulders fall. Her eyelids blinked in rapid succession as she fought back tears of disappointment.
\n<\/p>\n

My child\u2019s inner turmoil was palpable. Just like the day her teacher abruptly left her classroom, my daughter\u2019s pain was my pain, and it felt unbearable to watch her go through it.<\/p>\n

\"DSC_0764\"<\/a><\/p>\n

When we got in the car, I immediately told her how proud I was of her courage. I grappled with what to say next. This is what came out: \u201cAlthough the result was not what you hoped for, you gained valuable experience that will help you get through the next challenge you face. When something feels familiar, even something painful or disappointing, it\u00a0helps you overcome the next obstacle.\u201d<\/p>\n

I gave her a few examples that personified uncomfortable feelings and how experience helps us\u00a0deal with them. It sounded like this:<\/p>\n

\u201cHey disappointment, I know you. And I know you eventually pass.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cHey frustration, I\u2019ve dealt with you before. You didn\u2019t stop me then, and you won\u2019t stop me now.\u201d
\n<\/em><\/p>\n

“<\/em>Hey obstacle, you tried to stop me, but I made it to the other side. That\u2019s what I am going to do today.\u201d <\/em><\/p>\n

I reminded my child that pain and disappointment can be like walking into a familiar place. They don\u2019t feel as scary if you\u2019ve been there before.<\/p>\n

As my daughter sat silent in the backseat, I drove home wondering if I was cut out for parenting an adolescent. I knew full well that as she grew, her pains, disappointments, and struggles would cut deeper and she\u2019d fall harder. It would be so difficult to stand by during these moments. What is<\/em> my role in her pain? I wondered.<\/p>\n

\"your<\/a><\/p>\n

As I struggled with this question, I was connected with a man named John O\u2019Leary<\/a>. When John was nine years old, he watched his older brother and friends lighting matches to drops of gasoline on the sidewalk. One cold morning in 1987, he went out to his garage, grabbed the can of gasoline and a match, and gave it a try. The explosion burned 100% of his body. Although he was given no chance of living, he lived. In fact, he thrived. Through his remarkable triumph and the people who came into his life throughout his healing process, his story has become an inspiration to people worldwide.<\/p>\n

When John began interviewing me<\/a> about my work, it didn\u2019t take long to recognize what a blessing it was to hear this man\u2019s perspective, wisdom, and heart. When he graciously asked me to consider endorsing his forthcoming book, On Fire<\/a><\/em>, there was no question. I could not wait for the book\u00a0to arrive.<\/p>\n

Over the past seven months, I've read John\u2019s book three times. Aside from my children\u2019s favorite books, I've read never any<\/em> book three times. The first time I read it was to provide an endorsement. The second time I read it was when I was in the midst of unresolved health issues. As I packed my hospital bag for my third surgery in six months, I grabbed John\u2019s book<\/a> knowing it would comfort and strengthen me before surgery.<\/p>\n

\"Unsaved<\/a><\/p>\n

I read John\u2019s book a third time just weeks ago as I recovered from an intense writing period. I knew John\u2019s wisdom would enlighten me as I grappled with tough questions about my life\u2019s purpose and direction. And it just so happened that I brought\u00a0John\u2019s book<\/a>\u00a0to pass time at\u00a0my daughter\u2019s all-day swim meet\u2014the same meet that brought her pain and disappointment exactly one year ago.<\/p>\n

Maybe it was the number of eager young people milling around, but this time, I was struck by something in John\u2019s book I hadn\u2019t noticed before: John\u2019s perspective as a child. My favorite parts of the book were John\u2019s flashbacks. To hear what went on in the mind of a child facing a monumental\u00a0trial and the way his parents responded to his trial felt like an answer to prayer. Each time John\u2019s parents, nurses, and mentors did not rescue John from impending struggle, frustration, and challenge, it became an opportunity for growth, wisdom, strengthened faith, and greater independence for John. These challenging opportunities shaped him into who he is today\u2014a man who plays piano without fingers \u2026 a man who inspires prison inmates to look around and see blessings inside concrete walls \u2026 a man who could have let fear suffocate his life, but he chose to live.<\/p>\n

As I waited for my daughter to swim, I found myself starring and highlighting one particular passage with vigor. Nine-year-old John had just come home from the hospital. He\u2019d spent five months in the hospital, endured a couple dozen surgeries, and lost his fingers to amputation. That night, his mom made his favorite meal: au gratin potatoes. After taking in the moment of family, home, and the delicious smell of dinner, John realized he could not hold a fork. He writes:<\/p>\n

\u201cMy sister Amy saw me struggling. So she thoughtfully grabbed my fork, speared a few potatoes, and elevated them toward my mouth.<\/em><\/p>\n

Then I heard it.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u2018Put down that fork, Amy. If John is hungry, he\u2019ll feed himself.\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n

I turned my head toward my mom. <\/em><\/p>\n

What did she say? <\/em><\/p>\n

Put that fork down? <\/em><\/p>\n

He\u2019ll feed himself?<\/em><\/p>\n

What the heck, Mom? Haven\u2019t I already been through enough? Are you kidding me? I am hungry and I can\u2019t eat!<\/em><\/p>\n

That night I cried at the table. I got mad at my mom. I told her I could not do it, that it wasn\u2019t fair, and I\u2019d been through enough. The night quickly shifted from celebration and laughter to upheaval and contention. <\/em><\/p>\n

The party was over.<\/em><\/p>\n

Mom ruined it all. <\/em><\/p>\n

Yet that night also created another inflection point for a nine-year-old boy. As my siblings cleared their plates and my hunger mounted, I wedged the fork between what remained of my two hands. My fingers had been amputated just above the bottom knuckles. Because the skin had not entirely healed, my hands were wrapped in thick gauze. I looked like a boxer fighting to get a fork between two boxing gloves.<\/em><\/p>\n

It was painstakingly slow.<\/em><\/p>\n

The fork repeatedly fell out of my grasp.<\/em><\/p>\n

But eventually, I awkwardly stabbed at the potatoes, brought them to my mouth, and chewed them. <\/em><\/p>\n

And I stared angrily at my mom. <\/em><\/p>\n

I was mad. <\/em><\/p>\n

My hands throbbed. <\/em><\/p>\n

She\u2019d ruined my night. <\/em><\/p>\n

I hated her. <\/em><\/p>\n

But I was eating. <\/em><\/p>\n

Looking back on it, I see what a courageous stand my mom took. It must have been extremely painful for her to sit with the entire family watching her little guy. How much easier and seemingly more loving it would have been to just feed me those potatoes and bring out the ice-cream cake. <\/em><\/p>\n

How much easier it is in life to not do\u2014or to make others do\u2014the hard stuff. <\/em><\/p>\n

Easier to take a picture of the family with everybody smiling at the dinner table, a little kid in a wheelchair at the end, post on Facebook, and write, \u2018Back to normal!! We\u2019re all home and doing great!\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n

Mom wasn\u2019t worried about what others thought. <\/em><\/p>\n

She wasn\u2019t concerned about Photoshopping the moment.<\/em><\/p>\n

Mom utilized this moment as a reminder that others would be there to encourage, to serve, to love me. But this was still my fight, this was still my life. It might be ripe with challenges, but it was also my opportunity to realize that none of those obstacles would be surmountable. <\/em><\/p>\n

This moment was just the beginning of many times when I would have to find my way. She forced me to pick up my fork. And I am completely convinced I would not be living the life I am living today if she hadn\u2019t.\u201d <\/em><\/p>\n

John\u2019s powerful passage reminded of what my friend Glennon Doyle Melton<\/a> said the other night when I heard her speak. A question was raised regarding parents who are going\u00a0through difficult life experiences like job loss, divorce, trauma, relocation, and health\u00a0woes. The audience member described being\u00a0overwhelmed with guilt when her\u00a0children experience hardship, struggle, and pain because of her life circumstances.<\/p>\n

Glennon made the enlightening\u00a0point that the characteristics we most want to develop in our children\u2014like resiliency, strength, tenacity, determination, independence, and compassion\u2014come from enduring adverse and challenging situations. Her profound words and John\u2019s life story confirmed my role in my daughter\u2019s pain and struggle; it is not to rescue, minimize, or abandon my child during her time of need, but instead to listen, support, encourage, and believe in her ability to overcome.<\/p>\n

\"DSC_0008\"<\/a><\/p>\n

This time, things turned out differently at the\u00a0divisional swim meet.\u00a0This time, my daughter earned a spot in the \u00a0finals. When came time for her event, she asked me to walk to the starting block area with her. I immediately noticed the absence of nerves. Unlike most minutes pre-event, my child was smiling\u2014glowing actually. She turned to me and said, \u201cThis is what I have been working for all year, Mama. I am so happy I am here.\u201d<\/p>\n

Wow<\/em>. I thought. That moment of pain and disappointment one year ago had ignited a goal within this child\u2019s heart. Over the course of the year, determination, focus, and strength were cultivated within her.<\/p>\n

As she climbed up on the blocks, I was struck by her small stature compared to the other swimmers. It took a lot of hard work and belief in herself to earn that spot. Had either of us shielded her from that stressful experience as an alternate, I am not sure that inner fire would have been lit.<\/p>\n

As my daughter propelled herself from one end of the pool to the other, I realized and celebrated these hope-filled truths:<\/p>\n

On the other side of disappointment is desire\u2014desire to create a different outcome next time.<\/em><\/p>\n

On the other side of letdown is belief\u2014belief that your story is far from over.<\/em><\/p>\n

On the other side of pain is strength\u2014strength you didn\u2019t know you had until you had to dig deep to find it.<\/em><\/p>\n

On the other side of hurt is gratitude\u2014gratitude for those who love you and stand by you in your pain.<\/em><\/p>\n

On the other side of despair is connection\u2014connection that comes from recognizing a familiar look of pain in someone else\u2019s eyes and reaching out your hand.<\/em><\/p>\n

And this, the empathetic response, was perhaps the greatest gift that awaited my daughter on the other side of her struggle.<\/p>\n

When my daughter climbed out of the pool, she didn\u2019t walk straight over to her coach as she normally did. She walked over to the young lady standing poolside with tearful eyes. My daughter leaned in to whisper something to her as she gently touched her arm.<\/p>\n

That girl was an alternate, just like my daughter had been last year.<\/p>\n

\u201cI remember how it felt,\u201d she told me on the way home. \u201cAnd I wanted her to know she wasn\u2019t alone.\u201d<\/p>\n

My friends, shielding our loved ones from struggle, challenge, pain, and disappointment is tempting; I know. But let us remember the characteristics we most want<\/em> our beloveds to develop are often born from a place of adversity. So that one day, when our beloveds come face to face with sadness, trauma, loss, or hopelessness, they will not be paralyzed with fear or give up because it's too hard. Instead they will say, \u201cI know you. I\u2019ve seen you before. You cannot take me down. In fact, I\u2019ll face you and come out stronger than I was before.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"DSC_0748\"<\/a><\/p>\n

**********************************<\/p>\n

My friends, if it was not clear in my post how much I value John\u2019s book<\/a>, perhaps this will confirm it: As a bestselling author, I am privileged to receive many Advance Reader Copies of forthcoming books to consider endorsing. When I feel like the book fits with my work\u00a0and would be of value to this community, I read it\u2014every single page. I know you trust my opinion and so I always make sure the books I endorse are ones I\u2019ve read completely and believe in whole-heartedly. When I was reading John\u2019s book for the first time, a dear friend kept coming to mind. My friend was going through a prolonged period of challenge, and I felt certain he needed this book right that minute\u2014not when the book was published six months later. I was not surprised when John allowed me to do what is typically unheard of\u2014send my Advanced Reader Copy of ON FIRE<\/a> to my friend. I was certain John\u2019s words would enable my friend to keep believing and carrying on. That piece of John's message is only one aspect of the book that makes it so beneficial. John also emphasizes how to live with a perspective of gratitude and that component\u00a0of the book is life changing. And, as I mentioned earlier, John enables us to see how supporting our loved ones through life\u2019s challenges, rather than sparing them, can alter the course of their lives for the better. I celebrate the recent release of John\u2019s incredible book and encourage you to read it over and over as a guidebook for a courageously lived life. Click here<\/a> to purchase ON FIRE and the read<\/em><\/strong>\u00a0glowing endorsements from Bren<\/em>\u00e9<\/em> Brown, Dave Ramsey, Sean Covey, and myself.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

Recommended resource<\/span>: \u201cSafe, Not Scared<\/a>,\u201d is an incredibly enlightening article related to today\u2019s blog post. The author, Sandy Blackard<\/a>, works behind the scenes here on my blog to help me answer the many messages I receive each day from readers facing challenging life events. Sandy's article provides actual dialogue examples for toddlers on up that develop a <\/em><\/strong>strong sense of self-trust and parental-trust to help your loved one\u00a0stay safe, not scared, despite the world\u2019s dangers. It\u00a0also contains a letter\u00a0I wrote to my older daughter several years ago that anyone is free to use to say\u00a0critical words to\u00a0a child or teen. Thank you for being part of The Hands Free Revolution community<\/a>. I cherish you.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201cOh, why you look so sad? Tears are in your eyes Come on and come to me now. Don’t be ashamed to cry Let me see you through ’cause I’ve seen the dark side too.\u201d \u2013The Pretenders When we moved to a new state almost\u00a0two years ago, I knew there would be challenging moments for […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":6793,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[55],"tags":[1615,1618,1616,1067,1622,1620,1621,1614,1619,1623,1243,1617],"gutentor_comment":67,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/03\/DSC_0869-e1459199374247.jpg","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p1fUJF-1LG","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6800"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6800"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6800\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/6793"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6800"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6800"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6800"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}