What I'm Really Hearing

I've been putting off this post because I suppose that I'm a little superstitious. And I wonder if you can be superstitious and faithful and/or hopeful at the same time.

Probably not.

It's like buying a lottery ticket. You know that you're not supposed to gamble, but you say to yourself, "if we win we'll just pay a big chunk of tithing." Yeah, that ought to cover it.

And then you find yourself thinking about all the things that you would do with that money all the way home from La Tienda. "Come on, Gold Mine!"

So obviously, I'm a hypocrite (which plenty of you already knew, please don't post this in the comments, I'm well aware). That said, I'm holding out for the Luck O' the Irish, a knock on wood, shot in the dark, good Karma--and I'm making Lachlan and Jack pray for it every night (cause their younger and their prayers are more pure).

Ten days ago, we visited Dr. B for our monthly ear appointment. The fluid has returned to Lachlan's good ear. Not the ear she already has hearing loss in, the GOOD ear. It's also the ear that had the full cartilage graft surgery. The worst part is that the graft has healed completely. There isn't any way for the fluid to drain. I thought that I was going to throw up in that office.

I had the burning tears in my eyes. You know, the ones that you don't want Dr. B to see--so you look like a crazy person who doesn't dare blink their eyes.

I hate reading this in print.

uggh.

burning tears.

Dr. B is a wonderful man and he saw that I was "on the brink" and he assured me that we are just going to watch it and see if it "will go away on its own." And when I walked out of there, I just kept telling myself, "it will just go away. Calm down. Don't get worked up about this. Lots of kids get fluid in their ears and it just goes away for them!"

Then on Sunday afternoon, I saw this:

Me: Lola, what are you doing?

L: Mama, I just want to hear it loud.

Me: silence. more burning tears.

If you have kids you'll know that these "toys" are PLENTY loud.

What I'm really beginning to hear is that miracles happen for a lot of people. I've prayed for a lot of miracles in my life. But what I can see is that they rarely happen for us. Mostly, because I think that I don't really learn anything with them. I have to learn how to be patient--and it is so damn hard. I hate it. I hate it that she can't hear. It's not fair. All she wants to do is to "hear it loud!"

It's like wanting to win the lottery because you don't want to balance the budget. You want to buy furniture you'll probably never sit on and cars you'll hate to drive. But you want it anyway because you think that it will be easier. Maybe you even tell yourself that you KNOW it would be easier.

You know what the hardest part is for me? It's praying for Lachlan's ears to be healed when deep down in my gut I feel like that's just not going to happen. That we are going to have to start from square one--and I start to wonder if I have either this incredible insight or just an outstanding lack of faith??

The second hardest part is trying to not yell at Lachlan when she can't keep up with the rest of us. When I feel like "what is your problem already--I've asked you to make your bed and pick up your room eleven times--and you are still sitting here on the floor!" and then you realize from the look on her face that she didn't even know that you were speaking to her. In that moment, you feel like you aren't sure whether to kick her butt or your own.

How long does it take for the hard things to be easy? Can you ever really hear just the sound of your own faith ringing back in your ears? If so, what does it sound like...I'm not sure that I've heard that one before.