Morning Reflection

Just as I was thinking about Megan this morning, she called. She and I have been talking about the possibility that she will go through oral surgery to have her open bite corrected next year. Today she went for a second opinion. Coming out of the doctor's office and on her way to work, she told me the pros and cons that doctor had informed her. I caught myself paying attention only to the part that worried me as a mother.

Let's say someone tells me in one breath, ten things. Person A might pay attention more to thing number one, and person B might pay attention to thing number two and three... to which part of the information we pay the most attention has to do, I think, with who we are and how the world has been treating us in the past. I, as a mother, worry most about her safety. I don't really know how having an open bite jaw feels like each time you need to bite into something, or in her case, not being able to bite into certain things, but I know I am scared to think about all the possible complications. Different bits of the information arouses different emotions in different people and we would respond most readily to those, instead of looking at the information at its entirety and truthfully weighing the pros and cons. Our judgement is biased by our emotions. I told her I came to realize, after giving it more thought and having some time lapsed between our last conversation and now, the part that worries me the most was how she would survive the post op discomfort and inconvenience. And she laughed and we joked about how eating must be a very important thing for our family. (Lately we have been talking a lot about how we always talk about food and spend time in the kitchen.)

I realized she did not need my signature anymore, if she decides to go through with the surgery, because she is an adult now. This is her life, her body and her decision. I will not let my anxiety, fear and personal experiences interfere with how she wants to make decisions for herself. We have had more than a few conversations on this topic, and I know she is not treating this subject matter lightly. I can not be responsible for this decision no matter how she decides.

Listening to Amazing Grace by the Chanticleer one more time this morning and as I let tears roll down my cheeks, I asked myself what being amazed is like. Since when did I stop being amazed by His grace? Do I really know that I once was blind but now I see? Or am I still blind? I was bound, but now I am free, it says. Am I free? Free to love, free of fear, free of judgement, free of anxiety and free to serve his church and free of myself? What is it like to be free? It must be without fear.

I found Marble sleeping next to me with her face on my pillow last night. I like waking up in the middle of the night feeling that way. Loved, I guess.