Miracle

Many are praying for a miracle for Luisa.  That she will be able to walk (an answered prayer, A MIRACLE!, since I originally wrote this post back in October), retain some speech, be cured completely - either through scientific breakthrough or a mystery unexplained - a complete healing.  I pray these things as well.  I pray she will still say Mama when she is 5 years old, 10 years old.  I pray she will always be able to grab her bunny lovie to place in her mouth for comfort.  I pray her legs will only grow stronger, more coordinated.  Scripture tells us "you do not have because you do not ask," so on this journey I ask for things big and small.  

Yet as I pray these things, God is already working a great miracle.  And the miracle is here in this picture, in pixels bright on my screen.  

Here is a miracle of the working within, unseen.  The promise to change, to sanctify in every trial those whose hearts are steadfast on Him (Philippians 1:6, Romans 8:28, Romans 5:3-5).  Here in this picture is a mother who has a heart at peace, eyes no longer full of fear.   Joy has crept in and found its way.

 

Back in February as Luisa slipped away from me, I opened my computer and Googled her symptoms. With every click of the mouse, with every video and article about Rett Syndrome appearing on the screen, my breathing grew shallow, my heart heavy.  Fully convinced before any doctor would confirm, I cried for days.  I couldn't stop crying.  Posts on the Internet written in stages of grief and hopelessness left me feeling the same.  There were no answers for months on end, doctors telling me "she's slow getting out of the gate.  She's too pretty to have Rett Syndrome (hasty words that still haunt me)." Yet the worry remained, deeply planted like lead in my heart.  I dressed her up week after week, appointment after appointment, wanting so desperately an answer.  A course.  A plan.   Something wasn't right.  So I watched her every move, recorded her every word in my journal, fearful it would all go away.  Every single day I prayed in my closet for the cup of Rett Syndrome to pass from our family, from Luisa.  

This went on for months, this time characterized by the unknown.  It is not the full truth if I do not share the wonderful care given me by a Christian counselor and psychiatrist during these difficult months.  More Christians should seek out this help but we are afraid to be stigmatized as "not having enough faith."  If you suffer from anxiety and a cloud that will not go away, be brave and turn the handle to that office, knock on the door, weak and broken.  Tenderness is on the other side.  Help and insight and prayer is on the other side.  Don't suffer so in silence, in your anxiety and hurt.  I did this for too long.  But now I have a standing appointment where we discuss Psalm 139, the brokenness of this world, and how God whispers in this very brokenness.  I have a professional to help me heal.  And that is ok.  And that is good.  

After months in this time of the "unknown," I finally surrendered in my prayer.  I added to "may this Rett Syndrome cup pass from Luisa and our family," a...... "but if it doesn't...."  It was a quiet revelation, it might not pass from us.  It was a giving up.  A "I don't think I can, but YOU can."  An emptying of the maggot filled jars of tomorrow's borrowed bread and an accepting of today's manna, like honey to my mouth.  A "YOU can be trusted, come what may."  A heart accepting and resting, long before the diagnosis actually came.  

 

 

The cynic creeps in and says, "This picture?  These eyes of joy?  This authentic smile?  It is denial."  Oh cynic, you are missing the rest of the picture.  Scan to the right and to the left and you will see wheelchairs, and wringing hands.  You will hear parents discussing g-tubes and the re-telling of regression.  This picture, taken at the San Antonio Strollathon for Rett Syndrome research, crops out the reality all around.  But do not think for one moment I am in denial.  I am fully aware, pending a cure, that Tony and I will care for Luisa in the most raw, organic ways for the rest of our lives.  I am fully aware that we are in the regression period for at least another year and a half.  That at any point she may lose the skills she's worked so hard to gain.  And maybe she will not.  "You do not have because you do not ask."  So I will balance my plimsoled feet on the tight rope between acceptance and the request for a miracle.  And wherever we land, He is already there, supplying everything we need.  A wise person (most likely a Bible Study Fellowship teacher) once shared this Biblical truth - That which God has called you to do, He will equip you to do.  So I will smile.  And I will have joy.  And it will ALL be because of Him.  His grace.  His favor.  His goodness.  His gifts.  His provision.  Sadness, yes. Tears, yes.  Fear?  Oddly enough, no.  A miracle.  A miracle for sure.

 

Oh the depths of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God!

How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out!

Who has known the mind of The Lord?

Or who has been his counselor?

Who has ever give to God, that God should repay him?

For from him and through him and to him are all things.

To him be the glory forever!  Amen

Romans 11:33-36