He has
made everything beautiful in its time…Ecclesiastes 3:11a
Know that the Lord is God. It is he who made us, and we are his; we are his people, the sheep of his pasture. Psalm 100:3
For
the past month I have watched pain, but I
have also seen joy unspeakable. I have
watched a little girl teach us all what true joy really is. How true joy can triumph circumstance. I have learned happiness is from circumstance
but true joy comes from the Lord, and comes from within.
Three and a half weeks ago Lily started
a new journey, a journey to become like the rest of us. To have legs that will hopefully one day look
normal. To have legs that will hopefully
one day support her weight and allow her to walk. To have a life that will one day be
independently lived without having to rely on someone else. She has begun that journey and she has done
it by teaching her momma what it means to embrace true joy.
I knew she was tough. I knew she was strong-willed. I knew she was independent. I knew she always finds a will and a way. I just didn’t know how deep that ran. I have often asked the Lord, why two of these
kids…why did you give me two kids who are so much a like? Why are they so strong willed, so determined,
so bent on their way? And why, oh why, did
you give them to a strong-willed, determined bent on her way momma? I am slowly learning, we all need these traits to
survive this journey, and we are all learning to let go of these traits to
become more moldable, more like Him.
Lily’s surgery didn’t go quite as
planned. They could only do one leg this
time, instead of two. She had major work
done to both, just not what we planned.
I have a close friend who was at the hospital with me that day who reminded me,
this was His plan. She told me, "Don’t get
discouraged, His timing, His Plans." To me, all I could think was
longer recovery time, more surgeries, and longer she would have to be in the
state she was in. Looking back, my
friend was right. His plans are
good. His plans are right. For whatever reason Lily’s journey hasn’t
been the typical normal plan, nor has anything gone according to plan, so I’m not
sure why I was so surprised.
That afternoon she was wheeled into her
room with me and her daddy by her side.
The last surgery she had was around 4-6 months of age and she did it
alone with no momma or daddy. This time,
she was promised a family. My main fear
was what would she think when she woke up and saw the attachment on her leg for
the first time. Would she hate us? Would she freak out? Would she question what we have done to
her? When she came to she cried, I
cried, and we just held each other. We
promised her we would do this as a family, and she just nodded and held onto me for
the next four days. That night was the
worst night of this whole process. Her
pain got out of control. Sometime
between 10pm and 2 am she hit rock bottom.
She screamed at me to take it off.
She tried to herself. She begged,
she cried, she pleaded for the pain to be removed, for the ugliness to go
away. I asked her, "Baby, do you want your
legs fixed?” To which she answered, “No!
Take it off!” Then I asked, “Do you want
your legs to be straight?” To which she answered, “No! Take it off!” Then
I asked, “Do you want to be able to possibly walk one day?” She cried and she
shook her head yes. And then I heard her whisper, “Yes momma!” And then she broke. She cried a broken cry. She mourned what was and the uncertainty of
the future. Brad and I both told her we
would fight with her. She screamed quite
a bit that night. I asked her a few
times if she was angry to which she answered yes. She screamed from the bottom of her belly to
get the anger out and we just let her.
She cried, we cried. At one point
I know Brad and I looked at each other and without saying a word thought what
have we done to her? That night was
miserable, and it was ugly, but it was the beginning of something beautiful.
The next day a very close friend came
into the room early that morning to check on us. She
came with words from the Lord. She took
one look at me, at us and knew it wasn’t good.
She looked at me in the face and the first words out of her mouth that
morning were, “You did not make a mistake.”
I lost it in her arms. She was
sent from my Father to remind us to keep going.
Because at that moment I was done, we were done, exhausted with nothing
left. My cousin, who also worked at the
hospital, followed her with the same words of affirmation and put a sign on the
door, “no visitors.” They finally dosed Lily up on some pretty good pain meds.
I climbed back into bed with her, laid across her chest, which was the
only place she wanted me, and we slept, for most of the day. She woke up each time with her momma and
daddy and knew she was loved, she was cared for, and she wasn’t alone…not
anymore. And when it got too rough she
would beg, prayers momma prayers. She
knew that when we couldn’t meet her needs there is One who is greater WHO CAN!
The next day I watched my husband fill
the roles I couldn’t. I was scared to
touch her, to move her. She was in pain
and her legs were so broken and it seemed everywhere we needed to touch her had
been cut on in some form. It was time to
get out of the bed and try to do life again. Brad reached down and with confidence and strength he lifted her up and into
his arms she went. That was the moment I
knew we were going to be okay. That was
the moment I knew the Lord joined our union 10 plus years ago for this. I see why marriage is important. I see why we have certain strengths and
weaknesses. I see every trait the Lord
knit into our being and why. Lily saw it
too. She knew then she would be okay and
she would be able to get through this.
She took a turn that day. Her personality
that she had buried began to surface once again. Her spunk came back. Her will, her determination, it was all
flooding back to us. I was hopeful!
The first week she didn’t even want to look at her leg, nor did she want anyone else looking at it either. She wanted it covered up. She wanted it hidden. She didn’t want to see the ugly, the scars. However, over the last three weeks she has become proud. She has seen the transformation her legs have taken. She sat on the toilet for the first time with both of her legs in front of her, not one behind her and hanging in the potty as she goes. She was so proud she called everyone in to see. That was the first smile I saw over the situation her legs were in. Now, she proudly shows her new hardware. Over the last three weeks I have watched her get stronger. With each crank we have to turn to straighten her legs, comes pain. But with that pain, I have seen beauty. I have seen her fight. And I have seen her have true joy when I haven’t.
Throughout this I have learned so much
from my kids. My nine year old has
stepped up in ways I never knew she had in her.
She has done things she shouldn’t have to without complaining. She has embraced it all with joy as well. She has prayed for her sister deeply. She has cried and rejoiced with her. She has carried her and nurtured her. She has fought with her and kept it
normal. She has taught me to continue to
do life and do it normal.
I have learned throughout this, that pain
gives way to beauty. You see I haven’t handled
this transition so well. I am trying…but
I underestimated how hard this would be.
I underestimated what I would have to give up. I underestimated how selfish I really
was. I underestimated how selfless you
really had to be to care for someone else daily, sometimes minute by
minute. I have felt each kid is only
getting 50% of me and as someone who strives for some sort of perfection that
doesn’t sit too well. The Lord has
really taught me that pain brings transformation, transformation brings beauty,
and beauty gives way to life in Him. Lily
has scares on her body that represent a painful time in her life. But those scares healed and they are a testament
to the transformation the Lord is doing not only on her outward broken body,
but inwardly in her heart, and soul as well.
She knows even at this early age where her help comes from, because she
prays often. She calls to Him
often. Even at an early age she knows
there is a greater power.
She has plans. She has plans to ride a horse. Especially after her Paw Paw promised he would buy her one when she was in so much pain. She has plans to ride a bike. She has plans to dance with Mickey Mouse, especially after her daddy promised to take her to Disney World when she was in so much pain. The other day I was in the kitchen doing laundry. The kids were in the school room finishing up school. I look over and I was no longer in the kitchen alone. Lily was there beside me. She was in a bean bag chair. Apparently that wasn’t where she thought she should be. So she got herself down, figured out a way to drag herself into the kitchen with me and then flashed the biggest smile across her face to save herself from the trouble she was about to be in. I realized at that moment she is going to do great things. The lord has plans for her brokenness. She is fearfully and wonderfully made. She is strong and determined and one day she will do great things for His kingdom, because He has done great things for her.
In two days we celebrate the day my
Savior hung on a cross and took the ugly dirty sin upon Him. He conquered the broken mess we are that
day. And three days later He rose to
give us life and give it abundantly. I
have this life because of His sacrifice so many years ago. I have beauty from brokenness because He
paved the way. He came, He died, and He
rose for me, for us, for a broken world that needs Him.
For
God so loved the world that He gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes
in him shall not perish but have eternal life.
For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to
save the world through him. John 3:16-17
For this life I am thankful. For His sacrifice I am thankful. Our brokeness is made whole and beautiful. Praise God My Savior Lives!
For this life I am thankful. For His sacrifice I am thankful. Our brokeness is made whole and beautiful. Praise God My Savior Lives!
No comments:
Post a Comment