Wednesday, June 09, 2010

Life…is the glass half full or half empty

Once again we are sitting in this hospital room just waiting and waiting. We wait for Olivia to get sicker or get better but something so we can move to the next step. The next day sometimes. When I am in the hospital I feel so trapped sometimes. Not by Olivia or her illness but unavailable to do anything. It drives me crazy. Just in one week I had a good friend that she got the call that they thought her baby boy had leukemia, a friend's Dad is very ill and fell and broke his hip, another dear friend's daughter is graduating and I am missing it, VBS is this week and it is the first one we have missed in six years. I have missed so many things over the year. Our life seems to always be on hold. I know it doesn't mean as much to my friends as it does to me but so far I have had to miss so many things because of this liver that is so sick. Being there for other people and being able to be a shoulder to lean on, to give hope when needed, share in their lives, share in their kids accomplishements, hold a hand or just "rush over to be there" is what means more to me than anyone will ever know. I may be an introvert but I love caring about others. Especially those that have walked into my life for a reason or season. So let's call this my half empty day.




But, as I walk the halls of this place I see so many with so little. I took the little we had the other day to buy this one little boy a pair of pajama's. He is three and has no family that I can see and there is an "alert" on his door which means DHS is somehow involved. He has been here this whole time with no Mom, No Dad, just nurses to love on him, read to him, sooth him and play with him. Then I met this girl.



The girl is a teenager with a very hard edge. The first time she saw me and I said hello she despised me. How do I know. She told me. It stopped me in my tracks. But I just gently moved on as if she said nothing. Then the next day, we were in the kitchen together. She wanted Ranch Dressing, demanding that a Nurse find it for her, and did not want to leave to find it because of her food being in the area. She did not want anyone to touch it or take it. This was the hospital tray that even if that did happen she could get another. So I offered to watch over it while she searched the floor for dressing. She huffed, but she walked out with the nurse. So I stayed. When she came back, she completely ignored me. You could almost see the disgust from her. Later in the afternoon I was on the elevator with her. She said nothing to me. I just nodded and said Hi to recognize her. Then out of no where she snapped "You don't know what I am going through!!!" Just as gently as she was loud I responded "You don't know what I am going through, we are here, we are all going through something" She just glared at me. Through all of this I could not figure out why she detested the sight of me. There were lots of Moms on this floor. Was I the only one? Usually kids like me and seek me out, I was completely perplexed.



So. Today, once again as I am in the kitchen, she walks in. When she sees me she explains to me that I do not know what she is going through. Like this is some mantra she has going on in her head just waiting on me to tell it to! I stand there and listen for a moment, then I ask her." Honey, what are you going through?" then she just unloads. She tells me about her diabetes, taking 8 shots a day and she has seizures with them. Then out of the blue she says "I know your daughter does not have to deal with all that!' She almost spews it at me. Dumbfounded, I thought "God please give me the right words, only you could have continued to bring this girl to my side"…and then I explained to her that Olivia does take 8 shots a day, she has had a liver transplant and is waiting on another one and she has CF. As I start talking I realize how sick Olivia really is but then I see in this girls eyes that she is overwhelmed. So I just end with telling her that both of them are really brave girls. They both have a lot going on. But, then she says "But she has her Mommy here and I don't! I don't have a Mommy" Oh my goodness. The weight of the world just fell on my shoulders. In one second I realized that this girl was not angry at me for no reason I just represented to her all that she did not have. My heart broke and tears were trying hard not to flow. All I could say was that she was right. But both girls had struggles and though Olivia had a Mom she had to face the reality that she could die, all the time. Then the girl started talking. Not shouting, not demanding attention, not trying to make sure I understood anything, she just wanted to know how she could be better. How could her life get better in such a horrible neglected situation.



What an opening. I talked to her about the fact that she did have choices in her life. That she could do so much more by seeing the good in things around her instead of the hard things. That she could change her life. She needed to see her glass half full not half empty. Then little tears were forming and she wanted to know how to do that….I told I would be glad to talk with her anytime because the nurse had come in to take her back. But I know God is opening the door because that little girl needs Jesus.



So, though at times I feel sorry for the things I miss, God gives me timely appointments. He must have needed me here more than there. Because all my friends have mostly great kids, good lives (not saying we don't have problems just in the scheme of life) and people that care about us. They will rush to our side when we really need it. But these little ones not only do not have that but, they have no where to turn to get it. They really need Jesus with arms to hug them, soft, gentle voices to sooth them and wisdom to help them go above their circumstances. They need Him more than I will ever know.



So this week, when life is getting you down. You are having a half empty glass day…well, take another look at that glass because God will show you how to fill it up :)



In His Grip,



Barb
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