I did a stupid thing a few months ago: I fell.
Now that I am older, I know to be careful. But looking for my sunglasses in my purse while going down stairs did not seem to be so very dangerous to me. It proved to be my undoing. We live in a big city, public transportation, no car, and distant destinations. I was confined to the house for a month. I hurt both legs.
Did I go to the doctor? No, of course not. I am a former African worker. Doctors are for when you are dying. But I did call my doctor son-in-law. With his counsel, I decided only time could heal my battered legs.
So I was not walking at all at first, then hobbling with my new cane, then no cane, etc. My mantra was: we (my legs) are going in the right direction. Every day there was a wee bit of improvement.
Are you going in the right direction?
Is your TCK going in the right direction?
I have asked this to myself when I see that my sixteen year old has not reached perfection. Progress – be it great or small – if going in the right direction, is progress. Yes, my soul is comforted when the answer to my question is, “Yes, they are going in the right direction.”
If the answer is “no,” then it is time to seek help. If my leg had not improved, if my child’s health was deteriorating, if my rebel son was only getting more rebellious, if my life abroad is less bearable every day, if the conflict with my coworker is escalating…it is time to ask for help.
Of course that cry in the night, “God help me,” is the beginning.
“I cry out to God Most High, to God, who fulfills His purpose for me. He sends from heaven and saves me, rebuking those who hotly pursue me; God sends his love and His faithfulness.” Psalm 57:2-3