This year we have been blessed with so much normalcy with Townes that there has been so little to report. Once we conquered his skin issues in February and received a fabulous report post biopsy in March, it’s been smooth sailing. We have not been sad to say goodbye to ear infections on the regular (although Townes asks often when we get to go to the ear doctor…since he has a ‘treasure chest’ upon checkout).

In September, we were even given the surprising but welcomed news that Townes would not need to undergo another biopsy until 2027! Hallelujah. Our transplant appointments are now spread out to twice a year with blood work in between. The days of multiple appointments in a week and or month seem like a distant memory. What a lovely new normal we’ve unexpectedly stumbled upon.

These last five months my heart has been stirred by the word juxtaposition. So much so, that every time I want to toss juxtaposition out with the bath water a situation arises that makes this word plunge back to the surface. It’s as if the Lord has said to me, “not so fast Jacob. You are going to have to wrestle this one out” (See Genesis 32 for more about Jacob wrestling with God)

My pen is still at the ready to jot down any lesson or message I feel the Lord is impressing upon me, but it all started when Scott and I left for our vacation. A time I had, if I am honest, been coveting for weeks prior; a time to unwind, decompress, and recover from the daily grind.

When we landed and arrived at our hotel however, my heart felt like it was being physically pulled back home. Home where my children were being loved and doted on by the best grandparents on earth. Home where they would be laughing, possibly screaming, chasing Leo, and eventually tucked in tightly snug as a bug in a bed.

I had to even engage myself with a little internal volley convincing my heart that yes indeed, it longed to be at the pool, the beach with my toes in the sand, a good book in my lap and a drink in my hand.  If I was so sure I needed to be here on vacation, then what is this I am currently facing?

In enters what I have now been toiling with ever since: Juxtaposition

“the act or an instance of placing two or more things side by side often to compare or contrast or to create an interesting effect”-the webster dictionary

On our way back to Nashville as I was boarding the plane, I heard this little boy look at his dad right before he stepped onto the plan and say, ‘I want to go home but I want to stay here too.’ And I thought, yes child, you have summed up a constant conundrum perfectly.

I have now become so familiar with this concept that I feel it just sums up motherhood – or to be fair to all, the life of being a parent. It’s like being so sure that 2+2 = 4 and 6+4=10.  Allow me to explain.

As many of you know, Townes started sleeping in a dog bed just after turning two due to a massive sleep regression. The memory of watching Scott on the camera so thoughtfully place Luna’s dog bed in Townes crib is as vivid as the sunset last night; so much so I would swear it happened yesterday.

I remember every bargain I threw out to Townes to remove the dog bed – I offered stuffed animals, a pillow, toys to no avail. I was so distraught over this newfound “security blanket” my son had adopted that my friends sat me down, looked me in the eye and earnestly said, “Maleah, I promise he won’t go to college in a dog bed.” I didn’t believe them.

We took his dog bed everywhere – we even packed it in a suitcase and put it on an airplane. One time my dad said, “did you really need to bring the dog bed?” My response, “do you want to sleep this weekend?” It was that simple – wherever Townes was sleeping so was ‘Nuna’s bed.’

We even took Townes to the pet store on his third birthday when he informed us that he needed a bigger bed. And yes, I admit we were the parents that allowed our son to “try out” different beds in the middle of the pet store, sampling at least five of them; however, Scott was under strict instructions that if anyone asked what in the world we were doing it was simple: well our son wants to make sure the bed will be comfortable for his Luna and Leo. Just this summer, I looked at Scott and said, “do you realize Townes has now been sleeping in a dog bed longer than he hasn’t.” Mic Drop.

I had even become so attached to seeing him curled up in it.  And if you will allow me to be transparent, the few times I laid down with him, I immediately understood the appeal. It was soft, warm, cuddly like your softest stuffed animal, and tucked you in tight and secure – basically Townes discovered in this dog bed he had everything he needed to feel safe.

Then one Saturday this past September, Townes walked into our bedroom while I was making the bed.

Townes: “I want a bed like you mom”

Me: “You have a bed like me.”

Townes: “I do?”

Me: “Yes, you just have a dog bed sitting on top of it.”

Townes: “I don’t need a dog bed anymore.”

Me: “You just said, you don’t need the dog bed anymore to sleep?”

Townes: “Yes, I don’t need it.”

I have always prided myself on my anticipation skills and I am generally always prepared for outcomes. My dad was an Eagle Scout, so the Boy Scout’s motto rings loudly, often… “Always Be Prepared.” Well, I failed.  To say I was unprepared for this sudden change would be an understatement.

In a matter of seconds, my outward expression towards Townes showed no emotion and remained neutral but internally my heart shattered. Juxtaposition.

It turns out my friends were right, he wouldn’t go to college in a dog bed, but now nor will I see him snuggled up so tightly and securely in one either. Two contrasting ideas smashing and clanging like symbols into each other instantly. Yes, of course, I wanted this for him but on my terms or rather timetable right?

I think on the pivotal Saturday, as I watched him turn and walk out of the room as if nothing happened, I was watching the door to toddlerhood close. He was confidently walking into boyhood.

Meanwhile, I was standing in a cloud of dust frantically trying to pick up the pieces of my heart – I might as well have been Humpty Dumpty – still not sure if these pieces of my heart fit back together again.  So here we are again, not the first time I have experienced these strong emotions of sadness and gladness, grief and joy, and I know it won’t be the last. Juxtaposition.

…

A couple years ago while out on a walk, I started doing some math. My conclusion while spending more time than necessary in my own thoughts, is that when your child enters Kindergarten it’s as if your job is almost 1/3 done. After all, 5 * 3 = 15 and then in another 3 years, they fly the nest (or at least that’s my goal).  At the time, Kindergarten felt like a lifetime away.

In February, Townes turns FIVE. In March, we will celebrate FIVE years of his miracle. In August, my tender but tough little boy will go to kindergarten. The thought of all of this overwhelms me – I am unwell.  And so, God and I continue to wrestle like Jacob.

To preserve time but champion him forward? Juxtaposition.

So today, I started toiling with the number five. Five months I have been letting the word juxtaposition jockey around in my head like a pin ball and in February Townes will be five.

The biblical meaning of the number five is grace – God’s goodness and favor towards humans. Throughout scripture both the Old Testament (300 times) and the new (45 times), five is a theme to illustrate to us its power.  Jesus was even born in 5 B.C.  The Ten Commandments is divided into two sets of 5 commandants and the book of Psalms is divided into five major sections.* The list goes on but the picture clear, these aren’t coincidences as I know the Lord is so intentional in every action. I believe he wants the reader to understand the that the depths of his love and mercy know no bounds and so his gift for us – undeserved favor, grace.

A gift I could never earn, never perform enough for, a gift so unmerited in its very nature that I need to learn how to receive it (Ephesians 2:7-9). So perhaps this is now where the lesson will truly begin, a renewed understanding of the Lord’s grace. A deep dive into the many examples in scripture who experienced his grace: Peter, Thomas, Martha, Paul, to name a few.

A journey in learning how to pair his grace with the ongoing juxtaposition as a mother I will find myself facing head on. A recentering of myself in Proverbs 3:5-6 to gain more wisdom in how to likely offer myself grace above all else.

On Sunday, I was afforded the opportunity to go for a run – the weather was beautiful, and the atmosphere set for a glorious time with the Lord in reflection on the year. The run started with me in prayer and thanking him for the year, for my family, and then out of nowhere the grief came. It’s true what they say, “Grief is like the ocean. It comes on waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.”

Grief for a family I will likely never know and a child who is most important to my family. And so, I wept. I wept for their loss; I wept for their last Christmas with their child five years ago. I wept for the change in trajectory they didn’t know was coming almost five years ago. I grieve for them.

Here I find myself again, two families, contrasting stories, but one heart. Juxtaposition.

If you find yourself here, in the challenge of a juxtaposition as we wrap up 2024 and dive headfirst into 2025, know you are not alone. My prayer is that your heart will know 2 Corinthians 12:9-10 as concrete truth in the coming year no matter what obstacles you may face.

“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

Keep Inspiring Hope –

Maleah

*See biblestudy.org