My daughter bit her tongue this week. Hard. So much blood. A rush of tears. Swelling. Drool. A trip to urgent care. A return to her mother’s arms on the couch with Cocomelon songs playing. Rest little baby, I'll care for you. You’ll get well soon, I'll make sure you do.
My son and my dog head-butted this week. Cheek-butted if you ask him. Hard. No blood, but a rush of tears. No swelling or drool, but he’s got a shiner that made the nurse at urgent care suspiciously ask Tell me again — what happened here buddy? while his sister went back to get examined for her injury.
Complicating that trip to urgent care was the fact that he was the one who stepped on his sister and caused her to bite her tongue. I doubt he chose to do it with the intent to hurt her — he was just trying to get to a particular toy before his friends could — but he stepped on her in the process and she bit her tongue. It’s healing quickly, but that was a heavy day.
My wife and I had to figure out how to parent through the middle of getting our daughter the medical care she needed. I was surprised by how complicated our emotions felt. In an afternoon we felt everything from joy, to sadness, to fear, to anger, and disgust. While caring for one child, we tried to create space to discipline the other without being reactive. It all swirled up into a haze that you sort of just blink through to focus on helping one child receive the physical care that they need, while explaining to stranger that No, this kid over here really did collide with the dog, but that isn’t important right now.
God is our protection and our strength.
He always helps in times of trouble.So we will not be afraid even if the earth shakes,
or the mountains fall into the sea,even if the oceans roar and foam,
or the mountains shake at the raging sea.
Our kids are fighters in the best sense of it. They stick up for each other, for their friends, and for themselves. I picked up the phrase, “If you need to fight somebody, you can fight me,” from Yellowstone, thinking it sounded like a good-and-manly thing to tell my son, but I’ve had to start telling it to my daughter as well — because she comes in, tiny fists balled up - swinging - too. A boy her age at school made the mistake of hitting her on the arm the other day, and before the teacher could set him in time-out, Maeve solved her own problem — she went over and punched him in the face. These kids, guys.
The relationship between a brother and sister is a tough thing to navigate over the course of your life. After pulling away from my sister for the better part of 15 years, we’ve been working on our relationship lately. Well, less working on it, and more me allowing her to be my older sister again. She was the only constant growing up that didn’t need anything from me and when she did the very ordinary thing for an 18/19 year old to do — go off to college — I felt completely betrayed and exposed. I’d been relying on her for support that wasn’t her responsibility to give me. Did I work on it? Of course not. I went to my go-to-move of my young adult years — cut and run. Life moves at such a quick pace; the river of time rushes the rest of the relationship away. A lack of maintenance. A lack of intentionality. The years go by and you aren’t even angry any longer — you just toss it in your baggage wagon and don’t think about it.
My sister asked me recently what she did wrong, and I had to sit down and try to remember. I apologized. Since then, I’ve been being an intentional friend with her. We have a family trip coming up to celebrate our mom’s 60th birthday. Progress. I text her and ask her parenting questions. Progress. I send her a meme that made me laugh. Progress.
Somewhere between the fists flying, blood, tears, relationships being restored, and black eyes this week we find ourselves transitioning seasons. Perhaps you are too. And in the middle of it, we remember that God is our protection and strength. He always helps in times of trouble. Though the mountains shake, and the seas rage. Grace and peace.