Watch-Post

I’ve started walking early in the morning while the house is still asleep. I call it my ‘watch-post’ walk. I walk in the cold, pitch-black darkness with anticipation of the Lord’s movement. Younger me was terrified of the dark; I would leave a store with my key pushing through my clenched fist in case someone would come too close. Desperation has a way of putting our fears into perspective. I walk in the quiet and repeat the verse from 2 Chronicles: “We don’t know what to do but our eyes are upon you." It is my anthem right now. I end my walk by looking out over the horizon, wondering when I will see God move the mountain, and if I will ever know what it’s like to have a ‘marriage’ again.

It is hard to write updates while living with so many unknowns. I am constantly left speechless wondering how, why, or if this storm will ever end. I know God can, so why isn’t He? The amount of times I’ve wished someone could be a fly on our wall and see into my daily reality/struggles with Brock are countless. Some of the arguments we have make me feel crazy; I must be losing my mind. Brock is very good with small talk. Chatting about the kids, cars or play games; those are all past memories. Yet if you ask what day it is or what he did five minutes ago, he is clueless. His speech therapist said that it’s fascinating how he can do higher level cognitive tasks in the moment, but when you ask him five minutes later what he did, he is absolutely dumbfounded. There are no new memories being created or retained. Brock is present for the current conversation or task at hand and that is it. He is stuck in his high school years, and it’s a constant chore to bring him back to reality because he will forget the whole conversation in a couple of minutes. In his mind, he still lives with his parents and attends school, but in the same breath he knows he is married and has kids. The brain is fascinating and yet frustrating.

I sometimes have the fleeting thought of running away with the kids. We will just disappear and start over somewhere else, in another state. Of course this is pointless and would do more harm than good, but at least I would have more control over our life than I do now. I am on constant defense between Brock and the kids…you could add referee to my resume. Our kids are struggling with him being home, and sadly, it is negatively impacting them. The hard fact is that they are parenting their father. Correcting his mistakes, reminding him that he’s already eaten, etc. Our family can’t function like this long term. We don’t have time, and yet that seems to be the only medical answer.

Progress is minimal, but deserves to be noted. Rori no longer inconsolably cries when Brock picks her up, now she just panics and tries to get away. Brock has also asked twice now how he can help when I am trying to clean up dinner…progress. He usually isn’t aware of his surroundings. Brock continues to attend speech and occupational therapy weekly, and he has officially graduated from physical therapy. The new endocrinologist has been great so far—he took the time to listen to all of my questions and concerns. I’m now charged with the task of giving Brock testosterone shots in his rear…the things we do in the name of love. I still have not heard back from the doctor in Australia regarding TMS, and I am losing hope.

As of January 1, Brock is officially unemployed, but it has been amazing to see how God has been providing. When doubts flood my mind and I am overwhelmed with the future .. people show up, reminding me again that God is here in the storm. Although it is still pouring, God is beside me holding the umbrella. This coming week holds a lot of big decisions and appointments. Your prayers would be coveted for direction of treatment for Brock and our family’s next steps. Forward steps need to happen, and I am yearning for a lighthouse to light the way as change must be made.

I have attached the meal-train link below for those of you asking. Thank you from the bottom of my heart!

https://mealtrain.com/702gr8