Today I was supposed to be induced. Instead, we are preparing our hearts and minds for major surgery.
James has had a great day today-maybe his best yet. His levels have all been fantastic, his temperment has been calm, and best of all, I got to hold him for over 3 hours! I can't decide which of these things is my favorite, but my heart definitely prefers holding my little baby. If it were up to me, I would hold James all day. He get so calm and relaxed in my arms...and sometimes I can barely tell anything is wrong. If I close my eyes, I can almost picture us in that same position at home, in my glider, with zero cares in the world. When those thoughts and wishes start to overwhelm, I remind myself-we will get there.
Jared and I have been pondering lots of questions today, some of them involving very difficult conversations. We have been focusing so much on positive thinking and building hope rather than worrying about potential problems. We subconsciously dance around the D word...rarely saying it, rarely thinking it. When my kids bring it up, I find myself immediately emotional and uncertain about my reply. JD asked me tonite, as I was putting the kids to bed: "If the doctors don't fix James heart, will he die?" What to say to a 5 year old who asks the very question I won't let myself even think?
As difficult as it was, Jared and I had that conversation today. It is very easy to share our testimonies with each other, that we know the Lord has a plan for James and it trumps the skill of the surgeon, the will of the parents, and the strength of his heart. We know that the Lord may only need James here for a short time...or he might need James here for a long time. We also know that regardless of how things work out, James is part of our eternal family, and that testimony drives our faith, especially now. We believe these things with all our hearts and we trust the Lord knows us and James, and he will provide for us. This is our testimony, and we say it easily and with complete certainty. What might not be so easy is if this very testimony is tested in the most extreme way possible and we must rise the very essence of our beliefs. It is hard to know how to prepare for this, hard to make a plan for working through something like the death of a child-and I can promise you it is not what I wanted to focus on the day before surgery! However, it was a conversation we needed to have and we honestly came to no conclusions, other than whatever happens, our family sticks together and if all else fails, we never forget that testimony that HAS to pull us through. For now, we just have faith that the Lord will allow that to happen.
Another conversation Jared and I had was centered around the following question: What are we supposed to learn from this trial? I am sure there are many many answers to this question, but we both think one of the answers is centered around service. Not just serving others-compassionate service, that of which requires no reward, no accalaides, no notice of any sort. It is the kind that Christ would offer if he was here. We have been so overwhelmed and humbled by the people who have demonstrated Christ-like service to us over the last week. People who offer their homes, their time, their resources, their support, their prayers-and they don't need anything in return. They server without thought, and without guidelines-they just want to help where they see a need. I have had beloved friends and family tell me, "You tell me what you need and I'll do it". It has brought tears to my eyes every time. Others have jumped in without question or comment, they just see a need and they fill in. My heart is full with gratitude as I realize how much that helps. Others have given me a hug, promised to say a prayer, or resolved to send positive thoughts or feelings in whatever manner their personal beliefs allow. Just overwhelming, to the point where I cannot help but dissolve into tears at the thought.
I am not certain people know or realize how much the service of others buoys you up until you are in a moment of desparate crisis. In that moment, despair is suddenly lifted as service overwhelms: people come by to clean the house, give their children the primary lesson they missed on Sunday, pay for a gallon of gas, take the kids for the day, teach their boys how to make Santa beards with soap bubbles, sweep a floor, cry with you, give you a hug, or promise to pray and fast for your baby. I didn't know until we found out James was in a moment of crisis-I didn't know how service truly lifts the burden. We feel so blessed and so determined to be those kind of people, those who quietly see a need and fill it, no questions asked, even waving away the thank yous that are bound to follow-simply claiming it was their privilege to help. Amidst all the things we know we will learn throughout this James Journey, we are learning what it means to serve and we are resolving to be more like Christ in this area.
Tomorrow we embark on a changing day for James. It is the day James' heart will begin its road to recovery. James is such a strong little boy, he is so calm and content....his spirit seems to understand that the road will be difficult and he is ready to accept the challenge. Everytime he stares at me with his little eyes, I can't help but think he is aware of what's happening-and he is okay with it because he knows the Lord is on his side, and he knows Jared and I, and Karianna, JD, Jordan, and Sara, are just waiting to smother him with hugs and kisses when he comes home. The day is coming and tomorrow simply starts the countdown. Our hearts are full.
No comments:
Post a Comment