I Trust You, God - And I Trust It Will Hurt

The time we are living in right now is crazy and chaotic for so many families. Yes, I know for some, life has slowed down and this is a time to reset and restore. That’s awesome. It’s a blessing.

For others, the chaos is overwhelming.

I remember when my kids were little, I was juggling a whole lot of things in my life. I was an entrepreneur who worked from home with 4 kids and a husband who for a period of time traveled 2 ½ weeks out of every month.

I was an expert juggler.

I was busy, but I was juggling in the chaos. But, it really isn’t chaos if I have everything under control, right? I had everything pretty much under control.

Until 1995, when things happened that were out of my control. In one year time my youngest brother was killed in a snowmobile accident, my brother-in-law passed away, I lost my sister-in-law through divorce, I was in a car accident and a boating accident. The losses were destroying my heart.

Then to top it off, we adopted a baby—Tyler.

My husband and I had always wanted four children, but two seemed to be the number we were to have, and we were fine with that. Two was good.

Until we got a call—a call from my aunt who told me that my cousin had her baby. His name is Tyler Michael. After a few minutes of congratulations and small talk we were going to hang up. She said, “Won’t you and Mike adopt baby Tyler?”

Tyler was being put up for adoption and it was breaking her heart.

Mike and I had already had the conversation earlier and made the decision that no, we were not going to adopt. So, the answer was a gentle, but firm no.

The question, however, bothered my heart—and not in a good way. I walked into the other room to tell my husband about Tyler being born and how it made me feel angry. I then I reminded him of all the reasons we had when we decided not to adopt Tyler in the first place—one being that there was family conflict about his adoption. Stay away. Stay very far away.

I said my piece. Mike agreed. All good.

One hour later, Mike walked upstairs and said, “Dawn, we have to think about this.”

[Deer in the headlights look] “About what, adopting Tyler?”

“Since you left I keep hearing a voice in my head repeating, “Why won’t you adopt baby Tyler?”

Now, my husband would never say that phrase…baby Tyler. That was unusual.

It was also unusual that my husband and I switched places. He is typically all logic and I all heart. This changed, and I went into complete brain and logic mode. My heart went on lockdown.

This was not good. When Mike and I switch, God is up to something. I knew it and I didn’t like it.

I promised to pray about it, and I did. God and I had long conversations. Or should I say, I had a lot to say to God. I gave the list of reasons of why we should not adopt. They were true. They were logical. They were based on fear.

God…what if this…

God… what if that…

His clear response each time was, “Trust me.”

My stubborn response in return was, “I trust you. And I trust it will hurt.”

And it did.

A lot.

Every single thing I worried about happened…and more.

The “and more” was that Tyler was an extremely angry child. His temper-tantrums were amazing feats of energy that never seemed to end. The crying, hitting, ripping things apart were not what I had signed up for. He also developed asthma at 1 year old that got worse over the years.

I thought I was the worst mom ever. What I didn’t know was that I was dealing with a child with reactive attachment disorder. He wouldn’t be diagnosed until many years later.

My dad, Dr. Dick Versendaal, helped me a lot during those years. He said, Tyler has a broken heart.

It was true. The asthma, the anger, attachment and control issues. Broken heart.

So did I.

I thought I was a pretty good mom before.

I thought I could handle being an entrepreneur, wife, mom, taxi driver, cook, etc.

But the constant chaos—the energy of fear and anger was horrible and exhausting. It not only affected me, it affected everyone in the family. Chronic stress.

I could survive a storm, but with this there was no end in sight.

And I felt so alone.

I was giving my all, but it wasn’t enough. I sucked as a mom because I couldn’t calm Tyler, my kids saw me lose my temper, I wasn’t always happy, and I was most often stressed.

It was the world I lived in.

If I could go back in time to visit myself, I’d just sit down with me and say, “I see you. You are amazing and doing the best you can, and that IS enough. Girl, you ARE enough.” And then I’d pull me up off the floor and say, “Let’s go tackle this day. You are not alone. We’ve got this.”

So for those of you who are finding yourself in a storm that seems to be bringing out your worst.

Take a breath. Give yourself grace. Find a place where you can listen to your heart. This stuff breaks your heart, and you need to listen. Allow it to speak and express its frustration and pain with NO JUDGEMENT—even if it’s only 5-10 minutes.

Maybe your brain will want you to get moving and get back to work or it may want you to dive under the covers to hide from the day. Your brain will try to convince you to do whatever it has to do to protect your heart.

Yes, what you are going through is big.

Can you hear God whisper, “Trust me.”

Yes, you can say and you can be as snarky as you want to in reply, “I trust you, God and I trust it will hurt.” I may hurt.

He will say, “I know. But trust me.”

So, my friends…I see you.

We are in this together.

And together, in God’s strength, we get up one more time.