While the words won’t come for me to type, the words themselves bounce around my head like so many fireflies on a summer night. Blinking on and off, flying this way and that, as I struggle to catch just one of them! Making sense of my thoughts during this trial seems like an impossible task.
Right now I’m staring at my sweet little Myka who is sedated and intubated, yet ALIVE with a NEW liver functioning inside her little body. It’s mind-blowing when I really think about it. Though she is just a few feet away from me, my heart is broken at how much I miss that toddler and her crazy antics. Almost two weeks have passed since I held her, looked into her eyes or heard yelling “Mama.” With all of my selfish flesh I just want to know that she’s IN there and doesn’t think we’ve abandoned her. Rest is best for her right now as her body continues to fight through complication after complication. Fighting…the word seems fitting for this season.
What haven’t I fought with in the past two weeks? Fear, doubt, disappointment, anxiety, sadness, impatience, guilt, frustration, anger, worry, and even sleep — they’ve all been part of the inner battle. While medically I know every reason why we chose to proceed with transplant for Myka (who was a ticking time bomb for a metabolic crisis) I have wished many times to go back and undo all of this to have my little girl running around again, seemingly “healthy” and happy. My emotions have spilled over and over again until I think I’m cried dry. I miss my baby, I miss my 5 year old who I hardly see right now, I miss our “ordinary” days…
This morning, as doctors came in and out of Myka’s room, I read Deuteronomy 20:3-4 where the Israelites were being taught how to face the war. “…Let not your heart faint. Do not fear or panic or be in dread of them, for the Lord your God is He who goes with you to fight for you against your enemies, to give you the victory.” While this specifically was directed to men going into war, it is the same God who fights for Myka and fights for me. The problem I’m facing is that I have to LET HIM. I have to LET my heart take courage, LET peace rule in my heart and LET my heart not be faint. Letting all of that happen is hard, because I want to take control and get things to go how I want them to and when I want them to…watching my child suffer is almost more than I can bear, but even now, I must choose to LET Him rule. It certainly has not unfolded how I had hoped, but it didn’t surprise Him.
And in the end He still wins. Sweet victory.
A day is coming when there will be no more disease, no more pain, sickness or suffering.
Resisting the suffering is only natural and is my first reaction. It HURTS. It is not fun. Can we please just fast forward to better days? We are crying out, “How long, O Lord?” Please just tell me there are better days ahead! But even if there aren’t, I have to choose to LET Him fight for me. The brokenness makes me want to run away and hide until brighter days come. Yet I choose to trust Him now, worship Him now. His plans are still better than mine, though I don’t see it in the midst of the storm. As Ann Voskamp writes, “Never be afraid of broken things, because Christ is redeeming everything.”
He IS fighting the battle that I can’t see, and one day, oh glorious day, my Jesus will come to restore all things.