Curveballs fly on the news, triggering fear, but when one hits home we learn a new level of surrender.

Control is illusive—stringing us along until something snaps.

One year ago this Sunday, my husband Benj hit the pavement in the golden hour of the Costco parking lot and our son Gavin broke his femur. This is how Gavin (4) retells what happened:

"Daddy was running too fast with the shopping cart and it fell over.  I got hurt but Hudsy didn't.  I had a big cast on, that's all."

That's all and then that’s not all.

Four months ago fear washed over me as I waited in bed, listening to the rain sprinkle onto our travel trailer. In an hour we'd be flipping pancakes and bacon as our middle daughter Faith took center stage for her seventh birthday. But I was sinking under a bizarre thought that Hudson, our twenty-month-old, had died in his sleeping pod. He was too quiet and with so many tragic stories lately—

"I will carry you.”

Four words interrupted my thoughts and like a lifeguard rescuing a drowning victim I was up on the shore, catching my breath and remembering a picture from nine months earlier.

“He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.” Isaiah 40:11 NIV

Jesus was carrying a little lamb with a bandaged leg. Though the picture above doesn’t depict it perfectly, it shows the essence of the image that was downloaded to my soul three nights after the broken femur accident—when Benj and I were finally both in bed together, processing the whirlwind we’d been through.

Over the last year—as Gavin healed, crawled, walked, ran, climbed and jumped—the mama bear in me was ready to pounce at the slightest chance of danger or injury.

Often I’d step in and attempt control and other times I would whisper Jesus under my breath as tears of release came and I recalled this picture of Jesus carrying my son.

Surrender hurts, it is hard, it is scary but it is the only way to live free. 

I remember releasing tears of fear as I sang Gavin into sedation and then broke outside the X-ray door when unsettling sounds came from within the room. I thought they were losing him—no parent should ever go through this terror. I cried out to Jesus in the middle of the night, alone in the cold hospital room, as my shaky body caught up with the events of the day. Days later, as Gavin was carefully turned over in his hip scipa cast for an awkward cuddle a new batch of tears fell.

When the cast was sawed off after six weeks there was relief, yet uncertainty lingered.

Months later, after a delay because of the COVID crisis, we had a follow-up appointment and an X-ray assured us his leg was on a good trajectory for long-term healing!

At the foot of the cross I brought my fears—over and over—and there grace carried me.

If you are a mom, at some point your thoughts have probably spiraled:

You haven’t felt your active baby moving inside for the last few hours...

There are complications in delivery…

The baby you've been sleep training is now sleeping for what seems like too long...

Your active toddler has you on a mission to troubleshoot, rescue, and prevent disaster…

Your brave teen is always experimenting, pushing boundaries, and testing what could be…  

Or maybe you have an adult child or husband who thrives on the next adventure…

For some these aren’t just fears—you’ve released a loved one into the arms of Jesus.

“I will carry you” no longer sounds so cliché. I am so sorry.

I don’t know why Jesus turned Gavin from a dangerous position into the perfect position for delivery in the final minutes of his birth or healed his femur when many suffer—but I know I can trust He is carrying each one of my children for the seasons He has them on earth. And I continue to say thank you and give Him glory for Gavin's healing.

It is hard to write this, but as part of my faith journey I will not live in fear or illusive control. Jesus is inviting me to freedom, and so I release each loved one again—in faith.

“Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.” Isaiah 46:4 NIV

Let's free fall, once again, into the arms of Jesus and find rest for our souls.

A Simple Prayer:

Jesus, you are in control.

I confess that I am afraid and need you to reveal truth.

Help me to trust you.

I surrender to your will, your way, your time.

You are good and your love endures forever.

I put my hope in you alone.

Amen.