My Super Power Is...

My poster, sitting in my basement collecting dust.

When I was a child, I used to dream about what kind of super power I would want if I could actually have such a thing. The ability to fly was at the top of the list most days, but a few times I wished for super strength or telepathy, healing powers or super speed. I made [not printed, hand MADE] this poster when I was in college for a blood drive at my school. [See that little guy? I painted him freehand, and there's a super girl, too.] Most kids dream of what it would be like to be a super hero, to be somebody big and powerful, someone who makes a difference as well as a name for themselves. Someone important. Someone everyone can look up to and admire. Those innocent aspirations often morph into the things that drive us as we grow up. Sometimes, we adults need reminding that it is often the little things, the things that go unnoticed, that really make a difference. For the purposes of my poster, it was giving blood, something I believe very strongly in and have done many times since. I don't know who got my blood each time, but I know that if it was instrumental in saving just one life, that qualifies me as somewhat of a hero. The unsung, behind the scenes kind, but a hero nonetheless.

I've been thinking a lot this December about what it is I want out of life. I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to give up this stay at home mom thing and go back to work. There are days when I wonder if I'm even going to make it to bedtime. The never ending messes and meal planning. The whining and complaining, the constant battle for control. Any of you who know me well, know the struggles of parenting autism very often pale in comparison to raising my 3 year old daughter. She seeks every day to be in charge, and every day, I have to remind her how this whole thing works. Literally. My husband will often remind her before leaving for work, "Who's in charge? Are you in charge, or is Mommy in charge?" She has learned to answer, "Mommy's in charge."Before he reminds her to, "Listen to your Mommy." One day, she came to me and said, "Who's in charge? Are you in charge, or am I in charge?" I reply, "Mommy's in charge." She chimes back, "That's right, you're in charge today, but tomorrow is my turn." This is a constant battle, and most days winning that battle, teaching her to be respectful and obedient doesn't feel like winning. It feels like I'm losing my daughter and my mind. I could whine some more, but I know if you read this blog, you have already heard it.

I had big dreams when I was a kid — big, important, saving lives kind of dreams. I was going to make a difference and see lives changed before my eyes. I was going to use my light to burn a hole in the darkness of this world. Now, I change diapers, (NO. She is STILL not potty trained!), wipe noses, prevent mass chaos or death by childish foolishness. I manage schedules, pack lunches, administer homework. I sit back and watch my friends, family and most annoyingly, my husband do things with their lives while I'm stuck in never ending monotony. This is NOT how I expected to live my life.

Ideas have been swirling around in my head. Some good, some not so good. Finish my masters, (I'm STILL two classes away from being done) and go back to work. Being challenged creatively and spending my days around creative adults sounds like heaven to me right now. Divorce my husband and let him try to figure out how to do all he does without my doing what I do. Stop using the word 'someday' to refer to something I can do today. Stop feeling guilty about doing things that I enjoy because I have to beg for help with the kids to do them. I could go on, but I think you get the idea.

Basically, I've been thinking about making BIG changes. There's this thing though, this word that keeps coming up when I'm thinking about some of these things. Surrender. And, here's that same fight I talked about years ago in my other blog. Why can't I get over this hurdle. It's like I stand there and stare at it like it's just going to shrink so I can step over with ease, or like my staring eyes will somehow burn it to ash crumbling at my feet. See, the truth is, I can't do that. I can't surrender because I don't trust God to do what's right by me. I believe if I give Him my dreams, if I surrender, I'll be permanently fixed as Cinderella before the prince. I'll work and struggle and watch as first my husband and then my children live their lives and leave me behind never looking back to thank me for holding everything together, as if God has chosen me to be a footstool or stepping stone for others to walk over on their path to success.

Surrender? To that? No thank you. That's when the anger swells up, and it seems like all I can think about is how God has let me down, how the talents and gifts He gave me turned into tools life has used to tease me or to break me. I find myself often thinking, "that's alright, I'll make my own way."

Let's pause for a second and think back. I worked full time all the way up to the birth of my second child, and once I became a mom, I HATED it. I liked my job and the people I worked with, but the guilt of leaving my son every day ate away at my soul like nothing I had ever experienced before. Then working full time and going to school while taking care of a baby. Being pregnant with a husband in residency while doing all the other things I just mentioned, I was so burned out by the time Jackson was born, it's a wonder I could deliver him. After that, I had a taste of being a single mom, and it was HARD. I managed to put on a happy face for most people and my kids, but it hurt, and I was tired, and no matter how hard I tried, I could not be both mommy AND daddy for my kids. The grass isn't really greener, it's just my mind sees the past in technicolor. Back to reality.

"Have you ever dreamed of saving lives?" One small act, like giving blood, can save a life, can save many lives. Sitting in a chair, enduring the sting as the needle goes in, pushing through the light headedness til the juice and snack they provide take affect. Those minor discomforts that barely interrupt your day. That has the power to give a mother back her baby, a child their father. There's no parade as you leave. Not even a pat on the back, but it makes a difference. It makes a big difference to those who receive the blood because they receive life.

I didn't get to fulfill many of last year's resolutions. Obviously, from the previous paragraphs, I blame my kids, my husband, this crooked old body I'm stuck in, and God. I can't help but make more, and there are plenty of things I want to change and accomplish this year. But, more than all that, I'm praying for super powers. Well, one power actually, the power of invisibility.... The power to clean my home and not resent the mess makers. The power to plan and cook the meals and be ok if I don't get rave reviews. The power to do the laundry and focus on my family looking their best rather than resenting the fact that no one notices or cares that they have trampled that same sweater and sent it back to the laundry room without wearing it over and over again. The power to manage our schedules and be ok that mine pretty much revolves around theirs. I'm praying for the power to be ok living an invisible life, to be ok with being the invisible force that launches my husband and children into a world that needs them. I'm praying for that word, surrender, to mark my life rather than plague it. I'm praying for God to teach me to be more like Jesus, invisible but infinitely powerful through His Spirit, and see what His power can do for my dreams. I can't yet, but I want to trust Him. I want to trust that this is just a season, and if I hold on, the seasons will change, and Spring will come bringing with it the promise of new life.

So, happy new year! I hope you are blessed in your resolutions, and I hope your new year is filled with love, laughter and life!