"I am the Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand and says 'Do not fear, I will help you.'" -Isaiah 41:13
This verse was posted all over our house a couple of years ago following a TAG report Molly did on tornadoes. This verse flashed in my brain this morning and I am grasping to it now, hoping in this truth.
About a week or so (maybe longer) Etienne started mentioning that I am mean. Okay, no biggie to tell my mom or the staff at the Y. I don't care if anyone thinks I am mean; Ryan was following it up with things like "Peeing on mommy's floor is mean. Teasing your little brother is mean." Yesterday he told Ryan that I was pulling and grabbing him. I haven't touched that child with anything but gentle, nurturing contact in months! No big deal, that's what you're thinking. Here's my fear: to people who don't know Etienne well, he is charming, sweet, and generally well behaved. My fear is that he is telling a well intended, mandated reporter that I am pulling and grabbing him. After he has been telling them I am mean. After he is moaning and groaning about his aches and pains (usually as a result of an attempted Puss in Boots move off the railing or bunk bed). You see my fear? To the average reader, my fear is exaggerated and I am "making a mountain out of a mole hill." We moms tend to do that. So I sat in tears in the front of the car with this new gross emotion overwhelming me as Ryan dealt with our boy for the remainder of the evening.
Somewhere around 3:30am last night, I played out my worst case scenario. E tells the para at school that I am pushing and grabbing him; she has to report this per state law. CPS shows up. God shows up too. I have Molly's articulate words and a household of beauty out of ashes. And probably a decent blog post. I can handle that. Laughing at the thought of Molly and Blake defending me to anyone was the moment I realized my prayer allowed God's words to overcome this fear. He will win this battle too.