You see, my husband has a poor relationship with our ADHD son. I saw the same thing growing up, between my half brother (who has ADHD) and my step-father. Whether the father-son pair typically struggle when one or both are afflicted, I can't venture to guess.
My mother was often angry with my step-father for the way he treated my brother. I now struggle with that same thing--anger toward my husband. All the can't-you-see-what-you're-doing conversations do no good.
I worry much about their relationship--about how my son will be affected. As always, the worrying doesn't change anything. It only makes me less effective and more exhausted. I am powerless in this situation, even as it continues to drive a wedge in my marriage.
All day yesterday, the Holy Spirit seemed to be saying:
"You must give it over to me. Do not get involved. Change a few things about yourself, and leave the father-son pair to me."
This wisdom is in keeping with my main philosophy regarding marriage. If you aren't willing to say first and foremost, "Change me, Lord", you don't have much hope for a happy marriage.
Oh, sure. You'll be happy enough for about seven to ten years. After that, marriage is hard. You know the term "seven-year itch"? I don't know where it came from, but I know that marriage changes a lot after seven to ten years.
Basically, you wake up. You realize that you married a jerk. Okay, maybe not really, but it can sure seem like it! He isn't at all what you thought he was. And now you have to learn to love him, whereas before you just plain loved him.
In reality, you loved the person you wanted him to be.
Changing husbands won't work. Not that I've ever tried it, mind you. I just know that it will cause a lot of problems for you and for everyone around you, and then you'll be faced with the same thing in another relationship.
Okay. That's enough now with my
On to that unusual occurrence I began with.
Late last night while walking up to the doors of a bank he cleans, my husband felt something on his arm. He brushed it away, thinking it was a moth. It landed on the glass door of the bank.
It was a praying mantis, which my son covets like no other insect. My husband, a life-long insect lover, also covets them. They've been looking for one since late spring in many a park, and on many bushes in our backyard.
My son was discouraged about not seeing one yet. He's been asking frequently, "When do you think Jesus will bless me with a praying mantis?" I knew they'd be reaching full size soon, making them easier to spot among the foliage. Fall is their mating season.
I encouraged him to keep praying.
I can't even begin to tell you how unusual it is for a praying mantis to hang around the concrete walks of a bank! There isn't any foliage there!
My husband was so excited that when he came home at 2:00 a.m,. he went into the boys' room and woke up our son, to whisper in his ear that Daddy had caught a praying mantis. My son, for his part, was so excited that it took him an hour to get back to sleep.
When I heard the whole story this morning, I just knew it was God! Not only did he have a blessing for them, but also a message for me:
"See now, oh you of little faith? I really do have the father-son relationship covered."