A word about swing sets, lollipops & other hazards?

We had a bit of the oh-so-fun summer flu 
last week, which afforded lots and lots of down-time.
This means lots of laying as still as possible while you pop in a movie or two to entertain the littles for you.
Recommendation: Finding Nemo. Great movie. 
As I watched it, I had a brand new appreciation for
paranoid Papa, Marlon. Not sure if it was the fever that made 
this such a profound time of parenting introspection, but hey...whatever it was, it worked.

So, it's been six months since Spencer's first seizure-

 one of the scariest days of my life. 

But as time goes on, I'm learning to cope with the experiences, grapple with fears, and educate myself. 

Six months into it, I would by no means say that I'm an expert at epilepsy at all. I'm figuring things out as I go; my own personal anxieties among them.
And I'm learning that epilepsy management is not that different from basic, everyday parenting.
 In a very basic sense, it is pursuing 
the actualization of the hopes and dreams you have 
for your children. The pursuit is monumental in scope,
 daunting with it's challenges, and is complicated

 by the idea that letting go is sometimes
 just as important as actively being right there in the mix.

One of the bigger hopes is that your little people 
make it through childhood in one piece.
 For me, it's in the Top 2, priority-wise.

Safety is a tricky thing, particularly when fear is involved. 

This is where I can really sympathize with poor Marlon. 
I mean, he had a legitimate reason to camp out in fear.    

He lost his wife and family, after all. And his remaining
child had a disabilty. That kind of fear is so real, it almost has a taste to it. 
My memory doesn't have to think back too far to remember
frantically trying revive a blueish, unconscious baby. And time froze. And it happened again and again, without warning. 
 You counter this by educating-or over-educating yourself with several "what if"
scenarios, in an attempt to be prepared.

 "What if this happens on the jungle gym, or on a bike, or while they are eating something choke able. "What if they are swimming or fall on their face and bash out their teeth?" Or worse yet, "What if it happens and I'm not there?" And you quickly realize that you have no control. Zero. 
And so whatever control you DO have, can be amped up and applied like Marlon did. Over-protective, and stifling.

The problem with safety being your primary concern, is that 
at the core of it all, you are governed by fear. And the world is viewed as a booby-trapped, scary place. Not a place of beauty, and potential. And this is NOT the world I want to raise my kids in; epilepsy or not.

...Perfect love drives out all fear, because
fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.
1 John 4:18

I have found that living life waiting for a seizure, or the other  proverbial shoe to drop, simply makes me fearful and sad. So I'm attempting to practice a dance that marries prudence with optimism. 
Which means yes, he will get swimming lessons; he just won't go alone (but, come to think of it, most people don't swim alone anyway).  I will allow the day to dictate if there are warning seizure-triggers or not. Apart from that, we get ahead of ourselves, and the LORD discourages this.
Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
Matthew 6:34
Man, I'm so glad that Jesus said that! I'm so glad that He knows that this is the case!

I have no idea if Spencer will be the kind of guy that wants to spend his weekends rock climbing. But what if he does? Will I have raised him in such a way where he wont even entertain certain thoughts or dreams because of fear of the unknown? That, to me, is the scarier thought. So, the simple answer, or the simple prayer then, is for God's grace-
day by day. Minute by minute, grace.
Amen.