Skip to main content

"Radical Acceptance"

"Acceptance" - artist Jess Hurd
Dark-haired Daughter and Dear Husband have been doing a therapy program weekly. It's not voluntary on our part, but I think it's been helpful in some small ways.

A couple of weeks ago, the lesson was on "radical acceptance" - the idea that there are just some things we have to accept whether we want to or not, and we can't let those things control and consume us. I've been thinking about that idea a lot these last few weeks, as I've been traversing my way through depression, anxiety and anger.

I don't want to accept the fact that no one wants to do anything about my daughter's assault - not the cops, not the courts, not an attorney. No justice.

I don't want to accept that I have a sister who works two blocks from where I work, but never has time for a cup of coffee or lunch.

I don't want to accept that my kids have had such a rough time growing up, despite every effort on Dear Husband's and my part. We are not a "normal" family and that's that.

I don't want to accept that someone I trusted, considered a friend, and mentored as a youth minister violated the trust of a young woman and molested her.

I don't want to accept that I have bones collapsing in my neck and it's looking like I'll probably need surgery.

But if I don't accept these things - not "like" them, not think they are "okay" or "right" - but accept them as reality, then the depression, the anxiety and the anger will consume me, and that's not a choice.

Dark-haired Daughter seems to get this whole thing better than I do. She has done a remarkable, a heroic job, of moving on after her violent assault and abduction in January. She's somehow made peace with it - not that she still isn't fearful and has times when it comes back to her, but she's been a marvel to me. She's happy and working hard at learning new skills like cooking for herself and budgeting, going to school and getting things done. She's got this "radical acceptance" thing down.

What holds me back from accepting these things? Unfortunately, I think I have this image of myself as being this crusading mom who WILL get what her kids need, and no ONE, no THING, is going to stop me. And most of the time, that's worked for me. But not always. And not now. I can't do some things. And I hate to admit that. So I will say it again: I can't do some things. I just can't.

Radical acceptance of my inability to do it all. Oh, that's gonna be tough.

Comments

  1. This is going to be hard. Let go and let God? Sending prayers?

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

I love comments, even if you don't agree, but please don't leave anonymous posts. A well-mannered reader leaves a name!

Popular posts from this blog

Trying to "end run" God

If you're a football fan, you know what an end run is. From Merriam-Webster:
a football play in which the ballcarrier attempts to run wide around the end of the line We try to "end run" God a lot. I do. I figure I know better. I've got this - no need to worry the Big Guy about such a trivial thing.

Of course, it never works.

Like the puppy above, when we try and evade the tough obstacle (even though we KNOW we will eventually have to do it), we end up - well, off in the bushes.

But oh! How I wished my way worked. I'd love to take a flying leap and land smoothly and gracefully. People would be in awe, as if watching Simone Biles nail a balance beam routine that no one else would even attempt. I would shyly look down and blush - just lightly - and acknowledge (But humbly! Oh so humbly!) my achievement.

But no: I am the one pulling myself out of the bushes, scratches all over my legs and twigs in my hair. I'd hear that gentle but loving voice of God saying, &quo…

Crossing Guard

I saw you
today
as you guided
your little man across that busy street.

You were wearing some
big man boots
and
watching cars and lights.

Your little man had on
black sneakers and
a Mickey Mouse hat
that bounced
as he walked.

He wasn't watching nothing but
your big man boots
and
the white stripes of the crosswalk.

Just before
he got to the sidewalk again,
his step bounced a bit
- he hopped over
a spot where the asphalt broke.

You turned to look,
holding out a hand to
your little man.
Not rushed or angry,
just making sure
he got up
on that sidewalk.

Then you walked on,
in your big man boots,
face into a cold Michigan wind,
with the little man behind,
his hat bouncing.

Be Transfigured

From today's readings: 

Jesus took Peter, James, and his brother, John, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. And he was transfigured before them; his face shone like the and his clothes became white as light.

...we possess the prophetic message that is altogether reliable. You will do well to be attentive to it as to a lamp shining in a dark place until day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.

Today we celebrate the Transfiguration. For whatever reason, Jesus brought three of His disciples to Mount Tabor to witness this miracle. They weren't sure what they were seeing, but they knew enough to throw themselves to the ground in the presence of Almighty God. St. Peter (who never did anything halfway) excitedly declares that he will erect tents on the mountain as a way of memorializing the event. But Jesus tells him and the others that they are not to tell people what they witnessed - at least not yet.

In the second reading, the requirement to be quiet has bee…