Trapped Within

One of the greatest failures in life is missing the here and now. It is far too easy to get caught up and distracted by one of a million other things that daily draws away our attention rather than living in the actual moment we are in. How many lost potential memories and opportunities for relationships do we daily miss because we are preoccupied and consumed with ourselves? As I enter this new year I have determined to slow down and develop the moments I'm in. This is especially so with my kids. I want them to know and feel that we are on equal grounds. That their opinions and feelings are just as valid as mine. I want them to feel that their dad really loves them and enjoys their company. I want to get to know them for who they are and not just based on a few extrinsic facts about their lives.

Sandra and I have five children. Each one is creative and intelligent. Each one is talented and beautiful and each of them have given us a run for our money! Each of our children have gone through a phase in their early years where they would completely lose their minds with internal frustrations resulting in terrible temper tantrums--and I mean terrible. These were no ordinary hissy-fits, but down right psychotic breaks! A complete but temporary disconnect with reason and control. Ashton is now in this phase. Everything is his, everything is his way, everything is at his timing and will. The smallest thing will spin his world out of control and all 'hell' will break loose. A few nights ago was one of those times.

Some minor thing happened (I don't even remember what) that upset Ashton and he went ballistic. He was beyond reason. He was spitting and screaming and spouting mean things all while flashing us all with his infamous evil glare. In an attempt to discipline I sent him to the corner for not behaving. There I told him that when he could choose to be nice he could sit at the table with the rest of the family and have a sweet roll. He wanted nothing of it, he screamed and wailed. He kicked and spit again. We all ignored him, waiting for him to calm down; letting the storm pass. But it didn't. He grew steadily worse. It was at this time that I stopped enjoying the pleasures of my selfish cinnamon roll and started becoming aware of the here and now of my son.

I noticed that Ashton had began screaming in the third person and pleading as if he was being physically abused while we all stood there in indifference to his suffering. Suddenly I didn't see him as a screaming child, but as the sweet tender boy that is trapped in a physical body that was literally 'torturing' his spirit. I was reminded of the time when Jesus came across a man who pleaded for him to spare his son from possession of evil spirits and when Jesus rebuked the spirits the lad fell limp to the ground and at long last found peace. What if, I thought, he was being possessed by an evil spirit? What if I was sitting there eating dessert while my son was being tortured by demons? The spirit came over me strongly as I watched Ashton's body flail about, 'possessed' as it were, in the corner. While I don't think he was necessarily possessed, I did fell like his spirit had gotten lost inside his physical body.  I immediately went over to him and picked him up, cradling him in my arms and carried him up to his bedroom. While he resisted at first, the influence of the spirit that was with me had calmed him to mere tears by the time we got to his bedroom. There we talked for a few minutes and I asked him if I could give him a father's priesthood blessing. He said, "ok". I sat him on a small child's chair that was in his room and while sitting on the edge of his bed thus coming down to his level, I placed my hands on his head and under the authority of the priesthood and as his father and patriarch I rebuked his tangible body from it's dominating control over his sweet spirit and asked for the powers of heaven to keep and protect him and I did this in the name of Jesus Christ. I assured him that he is loved by both earthly and heavenly parents who want him to be happy. I asked for a blessing of peace to reside upon him and that he will be able to calmly work through his frustrations as he continues to grow and develop. When I was done it was an entirely different Ashton than the one I brought upstairs. He was calm and at peace with himself and the world. He looked up at me with his large puppy dog eyes and said he was ready to go back downstairs. He joined the others at the table and enjoyed a giant cinnamon roll.

I am not saying he was possessed by the devil or that my blessing cured him from all future temper tantrums or from being a child. What I am saying is that, I stopped serving myself and noticed that my son needed me here and now and when I gave him my full attention we had a sweet experience. Together we felt the spirit, calmed a storm and formed a lasting memory. Cinnamon rolls come and go, but a childhood only happens once, I'm glad a didn't miss this night of his.