Thursday, September 23, 2010
Yesterday was a great day in some ways because we, what Olivia and I call "breaking out" of the hospital were able to come home. We give it a spy theme to make fun of finally getting out of that place. This last time we were in a room so small I called it the broom closet. So we were ready to be home to say the least.
On the way home we dropped Dean back off at work and headed to the house. You know how it is though, in the car the chit chatting starts. Firing off all those random thoughts so that she has someone to bounce it off of and see how it sounds. The conversation is pinging off the windows in rapid fire fashion until she gets to the one that she is trying to ask but not sure if she should.
Some of my best and worst conversations always happen in the car with Olivia. I guess there is safety in the car than any where else. No one can interrupt you, add their two cents, listen in, or over hear except the person who you are talking to. Olivia I think decides then is the time to throw out those hard questions. These are the times that usually I get the big questions. The ones I can't answer, the ones that have to do with random things from being a teenager, to friends , to God. As she throws out question after question I promise I always get that one question that throws me for a loop and I start begging God for the right answer. The praying starts when the question starts because I feel it coming out almost like turning the arm on a Jack in the box. You are not sure when "Jack" is going to pop out but you know it is coming. So I start praying right then as she turns that question into another until she gets to the root of what she really is wanting to know. Because it is always that question that will make the difference in how Olivia sees life. What lens she chooses to use to view her life and those moments are not in the parenting handbook. And can I just say that sometimes I want to throw that parenting book out because it never covers those life things that get really messy.
Yesterday I finally got the question that I truly was dreading. I knew one day she would get the courage up to ask it out loud but I was hoping it would be with her Dad, youth pastor, friend…okay I am reaching here…I want to be there in the big question moments but I just do not feel adequate to answer them all the time.
Here comes the question, firing out like a bullet because she is mad. No build up to the question. "Jack" just popped right out with no time. Her question is wrapped in the fact that she is going home not feeling well. She is mad and she needs someone to understand she is just mad at her life at the moment. I believe you can get mad with God, He can handle it. But it is more how we deal with our anger that sin really gets into our heart and creates bitterness. This would be a critical answer for her to help her from wrapping that anger in bitterness. So Venting with God can be a good thing so here comes it comes in the overflow of anger "I know God can do miracles, I know He can heal people so "Why Won't He …..Heal Me". Now I put in the "…" because I know everyone has that question from time to time and those "…" allow you to put in your crisis with God. When Olivia asked that question, at that moment she wanted a real answer. Not a christianese answer, not bible references, not a moment to stop and pray, she wanted me to answer her because she knows I know Him. She knows that I depend on God for everything. I know His character and His believe and trust Him. Not just for myself but for her as well.
In her mind if anyone might have a clue, it would be me. Now, every Mom, friend, wife, sister that is walking with God has had this question asked of you at some point. Because we should know, shouldn't we? But the reality is, there are questions that do not have answers yet. Some questions we may never have answers to this side of heaven. And that is where trust comes in. That is where knowing Him and His character helps us trace his miracle at each turn. Her pain, her hurting, her frustration of not being able to be a normal teenager slipping away, her dreams seem impossible to conquer and day to day she can help people, love, make a friend for a moment but in the big picture "Why don't He Heal Me?".
Over and over we discussed so many views of our life walk. We have talked about how it helps people, we have talked about life getting better a little further down the road, we have talked about God's glory being revealed but today…those were not the answers she wanted. Today she wanted it all over. She wanted to move on. We have been going to church, shopping, cooking, getting together with friends when we are out of the hospital and this taste for life has just been enough for her to want more. And when you know God can heal, well, you want to know why you are still not healed.
Today my answer had to be more honest and more real for her. Today, it just had to be the thing that she could hold on to for another minute. For today, she just needed to know "why me?". Because she was asking as well, why is He letting all this drag out and go on and on and on. Why do I have to be in pain? Why do I have to look at another horrible operation? Why do I have to be the one to go through all this? Yes, I know Mom, there are so many others worse and I am thankful but Mom! The only answer I had at that moment that was raw, real and honest was "I don't know why?"'
But in my desperate plea to the Lord to help me because these are life changing issues she is talking about. Huge spiritual issues, I start begging for help. In my mind I am desperate for the Holy Spirit to show up and audibly talk. For God to provide that "dang" burning bush in the car so I can point to it. Some huge miracle that will engage all her senses so that she would see how Big My God is.
Then I see her face in the rearview mirror, but not just her face, her ng tube and it all comes together, for me anyway. Because that is only one of the many battle scars that child has on her. If you were to see her stomach, it could make you cringe the amount of scars on her body from surgeries, stents, and g-tube placements. But they all have on thing in common. A walking, breathing testimony of God's grace, mercy and healing. I choke up and can only talk in a whisper as I tell her my story. My truth. My raw honest truth as I pray it pricks her heart and shows her something about God that she may have not seen before. Because we are always looking for the big miracle but really the small miracles are what cling us to the cross and draw us closer and closer to Him. The big miracles we eventually forget…but the small ones…well, they seem to change our perspective, longer.
We started talking at first about why God is allowing this all to drag out. Would this next surgery be the end or just the beginning to another long path of surgery and another transplant? The only thing I told her that I was sure about is that God was in the middle of it all. I started talking about how if God healed her right away that maybe, like so many others, she would forget what God had done. That each step we walk we have those small miracles that remind of God's hand in our life. This way we all would have that moment we will never forget….when Olivia starts to run again. …that God had been with us the whole way. That each step was designed by Him as long as we press in to hear where the next step is supposed to be. I am not sure why some people are miraculously healed and some of us walk this path of bruises and heart ache. That I was not sure if that was a reflection of how stubborn we are or not, but at least God loved us enough to allow us to keep going.
At fourteen she may not feel healed but this Mom knows her path of healing. I have walked this path so long with Olivia that I had really forgotten during the battle the miracles that God has done. So I explained to Olivia something that I just realized myself. All of those scars etched in her body are my miracles. All of these days are a miracle of His healing. No, it does not seem that way but in reality it is almost like the Israelites building an altar when God did something for them. That stone altar always represented God's might and His answer. And there is a Olivia. The traces of God's hand all over her body. His protection and mercy on her very life represented by each day that she has made it through. Her entire life is an answer to "Why Won't He…." because those scars represent when He did. No, we did not have that miraculous healing but we have something more. Something precious. We can see the Hand of God in our life daily. And I told her that when I look at her, I see more love of the Father for me than anyone in the world. Because she means so much to me and His Hand has held her through it all. That she is one of the strongest, bravest, stubborn people I know and that every trait she has, has been etched by His Hand and her scars are there to prove it. His answers don't come easy for us but His provision, His love, His comfort is evident throughout her life. "That might not mean as much to you" I tell her but to me, it has changed my life. You are my walking miracle and so I can keep believing for the next one, the next one and so on.
Praying for your miracles today. Praying for the answer "Why won't He…?" for you.
In His Grip, always,
Barb
That WOW Factor!
12 years ago