Clenched Fists

I didn’t even realize my hands were clenched into fists. I wasn’t holding anything physical. I was holding on to my desire for control.

Our oldest just left for a drive and because of my Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, I got anxious. Is he going to get into an accident? Is he going to be paying attention? Are the beet truck drivers that are out on their twelve-hour shifts going to be watching for him? These random thoughts happen so often when my kids are out of my sight. Yet I know full well if I hover over them, bad things can still happen. So, what’s my problem?

I’ve always been an overprotective mother. Being overprotective sometimes happens when you’ve faced certain situations. I have to ask myself these questions sometimes: Was it my fault our infant son had cancer? No. Was it my fault our oldest had seizures for years when he was younger? No. It also wasn’t my fault when one of our sons jumped a few steps at an airport and broke his ankle. Accidents happen (by the way, I could list way more “situations”). We have boys who have simply had some very bad luck.

What breaks me is that as a mother, deep inside my heart I feel I should’ve been able to protect them from all of those things and more. As a mother, I wanted (and still want to) fix it. The problem is…I can’t. There’s no way to prevent childhood cancer when cancer cells decide to start growing inside an infant’s body. There’s no way to prevent seizures when the tests show there’s nothing causing them that we could shelter him from. Again, even as I hover…broken bones happen. Cuts and bruises happen. Even when they’re not my fault, I’m still not okay with any of these things.

I remember breaking my thumb in eighth grade. It was grossly misshaped and definitely broken. I got nauseous as I looked at it, but I never cried. When they were setting my thumb, my mom went into the waiting room where she proceeded to cry. The nurses and receptionists asked if she was okay, which she was. She was just sad I was hurt. As a teen, I was so embarrassed…especially since I was the one hurting and I didn’t even cry. I vowed that I would never be like that. I would be strong and not cry over my children getting hurt.

Fast forward 10 years when I had my first son. Four years after Isaiah was born, Alex was diagnosed with cancer. Let me tell you. I very quickly understood why my mom cried in that waiting room. I ached like nothing before when I realized how sick our son was. I cried because his older brother had to live this awkward lifestyle for a few months. I even cried when blood pressures were taken on our babies. It’s almost comical as I remember all the tears I’ve cried over our boys. (I did tell my mom that I understood what she was feeling and apologized for teasing her and getting embarrassed. She was just hurting for me, just as I hurt for my sons.)

Back to my clenched fists. It comes down to my trust in God, which I’ve shared before. I trust Him with my life…but do I fully trust Him with my sons’ lives? That’s a hard one. Because of events that have happened in the past, I tend to hold on to them as tightly as possible, JUST in case it’s in my control. However, I know full well that no matter how tightly I hold onto them, Jesus will fulfill His plan for their lives. I need to surrender them to Him daily and know that His plan is so much better than I could ever imagine. Even when He healed Alex by taking Him home. We miss him terribly, but God’s plan was still the best for him.

Sweet, sweet Jesus, I pray I can keep my fists unclenched. When they’re open, then I’m available to receive Your blessings. With them tightly shut, there’s no room for You. Please forgive me for ever thinking my plans could be better than Yours. They never are and never will be. Help me surrender my sons to You and rest knowing You’ve got it all under control. Help me be obedient to You. I’m so sorry for my desire to control my family’s lives. Please forgive me, Jesus. Amen.




  1. Angela

    I love this so much. Thanks for writing it Rochelle


      LOL Thank you for the comment (even if I know the purpose behind it. lol). I’m so thankful to have met you. 🙂


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