I knew I wanted to capture the moments with our children this summer.  I didn’t want to miss anything.  I’m the kind of person who has a hard time segmenting my day and I didn’t want summer distractions. So, I made the decision to set aside time to be with them and nurture me. 

It was hard for me to think about laying down projects, but I knew it needed to happen. Still, there are things I can’t plan. Capturing moments with my children has to feel organic.

We made a decision as a family to go to France. We’ve never been outside the country together before, so it was a big event. I had every intention of documenting it well … I didn’t want to miss anything. 

The tragedy I felt kept me from capturing moments with my children: (But, did it really?)

5 days before we were to leave for Paris I felt a searing pain in my stomach. I knew I couldn’t leave for France not knowing what this was.  Urgent Care ended up leading to a trip to the E.R. where they did extensive imaging and gave me a permanent diagnosis. 

My children see me in the E.R. often, but this was different. The disappointment resonated on a higher level for all of us this time.  It felt like my children were capturing moments of me instead of me with them.

Praying that God would direct us and lead our path, we told God we wanted to go to France and also surrendered to the possibility He may be protecting us through this pain. Then, we waited. 

The good news was I didn’t need surgery.  The bad news was, this wasn’t going away anytime soon. 

I looked at my family. My children were looking at me, their eyes asking if I was ok.  I was weary and drugged, and though the morphine had done me a service I was simply running on the belief that God was with me in all things. I did not want to cancel this trip. 

Response Is Required:

The words that came out of my mouth were simple: “Let’s thank God for healing.”

The next four days were up and down. Pain subsided and resurfaced daily.  Each day a new memory was created with my children. And, though I didn’t feel I was enough, we were capturing moments together (whether we wanted them or not).

I had a concoction of self-prescribed probiotics and supplements I took faithfully in place of the black box meds the hospital had prescribed me that could take the ability to walk from me. The Dr. had been forthright with me about their dangers, but my body wouldn’t respond to traditional meds and Dr.’s weren’t giving me any other options. 

So, I was asking myself serious questions no one should need to have to ask.

Once again, putting myself on my own treatment plan I felt like I was missing moments with my children. It felt like my lot in life. It was also how I’d learned so much about the human body. My reading focused, primarily, on how to heal instead of the novels and short stories most writers had their hands on. 

I cried out to God who I believed made my body. 

But, this time things felt different. Worse somehow. And, it seemed like it had happened overnight. 

FIND WAYS TO CELEBRATE ALL the moments with your children:

My life was predictable: Fun, planned and destroyed by sickness in a moment. I’d end up at home, alone. As a child I missed field trips, birthday parties and special events of all kinds. 

Celebrations felt like the exception. Pain … pain was the rule. 

Somehow I knew, deep inside, that this time it had to be different. And somehow, it seemed like everyone else did too.  I was going to capture moments with my children that were epic, joyous and out of this world … even if I died doing it.

France beckoned, but my pain did too. Only, this time I said NO! Healed is what I am …what I will be. I refused to accept the new diagnosis they’d given me and I began planning for JOY. JOY was my rule now. 

Yes, my body still hurt. But I chose to heal before I saw it and I said No to the pain. 

LET OTHERS IN:

Days before we were to leave, my friend stopped by.  It wasn’t the kind of drop by you usually get, but the one with a capsule wardrobe and a reminder: “YOU ARE GOING TO FRANCE!” 

It was an epic call to do what I felt I could not. To move forward toward the thing I did not have the effort for. Provisions were lying on the back of my couch now.

She then proceeded to walk me through shopping for necessities … a task I wasn’t up for. 

My neighbors, each one, played a critical role: animal caretaker, home management, and we had a ride to the airport.

The village we live in is special. Not because of where it is, but because the people who live here have made it such.  The reality of neighborhoods is that you make them what they are and they will never be more than the humans inside them can be. 

My own emotions told me to stay, until the team surrounding us gathered. They allowed a sense of purpose and agreement. This was meant to be. I would capture moments with our children.

We would go to France. I would choose wisely. France was probably the best place for me to heal.  

RESISTANCE DOESN’T MEAN IT’S A NO-GO:

As happens with all decisions … resistance was huge and in the days to come I would struggle with the realities present within the choices we made. 

Making decisions means facing challenges. The act of choosing is itself a challenge.  The struggle may even mean you’ve made the right choice. But, the easy path … the one that requires no effort is indeed the path that will, in the end, lead to disappointment.

People began arriving to help, as if summoned.  “Was I tired,” they asked … (maybe I looked so)? They were offering their vehicles, their clothing, their time … whatever we needed to pull off this trip to France. 

We got on the plane, exhausted, not because we planned it or because we had the funds or because we had the strength, but because God put people in our lives to remind us of His love and His purposes for us. I wasn’t able to capture all the moments with our children, but I let go and I saw the moments they were capturing.

How do you capture moments with your kids? Send us a comment and let us know.