Gold Star

(Written Last Sunday)

I’m watching church on the couch. 

Jude’s sleep schedule is erratic and she’s still passed out. Miller is at a friend’s house and his phone is dead. Megan is the sole Roussin greeting folks at church today. 

Attendance and participation looks different for our family.

It looks like bailing on my walking/running buddy, Eric, at the last minute because Jude kept us up all night. 

It looks like saying no to a family get together when long-distance relatives are in town — all because we tired from spending all day managing Jude’s mood at Miller’s baseball tournament. 

It looks like church from the couch. 

Truth be told I hate the inconsistency. 

Despise it.  

In my mind I have an obvious lack of integrity and character when I cannot complete the simplest of tasks. 

There are two of my personality traits that are betrayed when our family dynamic keeps me from “normal” events and behavior. 

The first is my desire to achieve. Stress is the only outcome for me when the lofty expectation for myself and my family doesn’t match reality. Then I starting asking “why” of myself. Why aren’t you stronger? Other special needs families are at church today, why aren’t you? Why don’t you just push through the discomfort and do it all? Why aren’t you over this by now? 

The second is my proclivity for people pleasing. My desire is to be a shining example to other families. I selfishly want others to see us as the can-do Roussins who weather it all with grace, strength, and faith. 

I want the gold star. 

The 4.0 GPA. 

The approval of others. 

I’m still finding the balance between accepting reality and pushing through. I often get it wrong. And I’m exhausted. 

So here’s where i’m at. 

At almost 45 my energy is becoming more finite. Jude is currently demanding more, so mathematically and practically, others get less. 

The expectations I put on my family need to be realistic. Rooted in grace.

I need to heed the advice given to the Philippians to “do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit.” 

I need to stop white knuckling life, gripping desperately for a glimpse of normalcy.

Jude is not typical. I can accept that. 

I’m having a hard time accepting that about me. 

And my life. 

And the way I show up (or don’t).

But my church is still church. 

Even from the couch.