My son- my first born- has an enlarged heart. I purposely don't talk a lot about it, because if I do I find myself being suffocated with darkness and fear. So I just block it out as if it doesn't exist at all; that is until he starts playing sports in the warmer weather. Finding out his heart was enlarged was by pure accident. He was being tested for asthma, and his EKG came back abnormal. You would never know if you met him. He is a healthy, happy, and kind 9 1/2 year old soul. A soul that longs to try out for tackle football. He has been asking to play tackle for two years now, and the answer has always been "no". I used every excuse in the book for him not to play, when the real reason is, I fear for his heart. I fear for his heart when he plays baseball, when he plays basketball, and worst of all when he runs in a track meet. When I am at a sporting event, and all the other moms are talking and socializing, I'm the mom who isn't saying much. Not because I am introverted (which I am), but because I am secretly, and continuously praying that my baby doesn't drop dead while playing.
I originally thought finding out about his heart was a curse, and maybe it was. I was destined to live in fear. Most people with his diagnosis never know they have this condition. There is no treatment and there is no cure. Well, tackle football try outs are quickly approaching for next year and guess what? Yep, you guessed it. He is begging to try out. Football is his true passion. All sports are, really. Just like that, I feel the darkness closing in around me, so much so, I feel like I can't breathe. I try and change the subject, but it doesn't work. I offer different sports to play. I tell him he likes to bowl and golf, so why not play those? He says he will play those but he really wants to try tackle football. I try talking him out of it by saying, "You know Logan, tackle football is very different than flag football". This doesn't work either. So now I have a very big choice to make. Tell him he can't play football, and risk jeopardizing my close relationship and bond we have, or I can give him to God and let him play. Hmmmm.
Yes, I thought finding out about his heart was a curse, and maybe it was originally. But now, God has turned it into a test-- a test of my faith. I had an honest to God dream once and Jesus came to me in it. He held up His hands and in each hand was one of my children. He clearly said that He has and will always have my children in the palm of His hands. It was an awesome dream--one that I think I was supposed to have and one that I hang onto with all my being. This is what happens when God gives us free will. A dark diagnosis presented itself, and I have the free will choice to be controlling and prevent my son from playing (and possibly dying), or I can trust the Lord with the love of my life- my little first born boy- and let him play regardless of what could happen. Gulp. Tears well up in my eyes just typing that part. I lifted Logan up to God the other day and simply said, "Here. He's yours. I trust You. It's not easy, but I do." So I gave him, and his heart, to God, and began sobbing and praying circles that he ends up hating football. It's a possibility, right? Anything is possible with Jesus in control.