Today was Laundry Day (in preparation for our trip coming up on Saturday- eeesh, it's getting close). I hate doing laundry, and I always like to watch TV while I do it- funny enough Carolyn already knows that when I get the massive pile of clothes out to fold, we get to watch a movie. :) Today's choice was Peter Pan.
My heart has been heavy all day long. I've been praying this summer for a little girl who is just about a year older than Carolyn. 10 weeks ago, she was diagnosed with a terrible form of brain cancer, and, medically speaking, she doesn't have much time left. It's one of those truly horrible stories- the worst thing a parent could possibly imagine. Ava so desperately needs a miracle. I know that God CAN heal her- that she CAN be a tremendous testimony to His power to intervene even when all human understanding says its impossible. And yet I know that He very well may choose not to intervene. And somehow, in spite of it, He MUST still be God, must still be loving, must still have a plan for redemption. I don't know how to put all that together in my head when everything inside me screams that this is NOT OKAY.
Today I went through the events of my day- a pretty everyday sort of day- we went to the park, the grocery store, had nap time, laundry time, dinner time. All the normal stuff. And yet somewhere in Florida another set of parents spent what might be one of their last days with their daughter. I could not stop thinking about it today.
Not always in a good way. This is one of those things that no one could anticipate, no one could possibly see coming... and hence it's one of those things that tends to capture my mind with worry. I can think of no greater tragedy than something like that happening to one of those sweet little ones I love so much. I've been struggling with anxiety.
And yet on the other hand, I've also found myself more aware than usual of the little things that make up the miraculous of an otherwise mundane day. The light in my children's eyes, the sweetness of their voices, the sheer beauty of them in their pureness of spirit and vitality. I appreciated them more acutely today than I often do. It's so easy to get stuck in the mundane and miss the miracle.
I don't think I will ever be able to understand why things like this happen. I'm praying for this family with all my heart, praying for Ava... and also praying for the many others of us out there who see this situation and are reminded afresh of how fragile life is. Praying that it will drive me (and others) to fall at the knees of the Holy One, Maker of Heaven and earth and beg for peace that passes understanding that can only come from a divinely gifted knowledge that somewhere, out there, there is a solution, a redemption that is only waiting until the appointed time to be unleashed.
*If you want to pray for Ava too, you can read her dad's blog at http://joshuajoelhunter.blogspot.com/ Don't read it if it will only cause you to be anxious. But if you will pray, pray, and pray, read it, and ask God for the strength to bear the gaping questions it may cause you to ask.
1 comment:
Me, too, EB.... Well said. Yesterday, especially, I was so heavy, and I just can't stop thinking about them and praying for a miracle. Chris told me you had posted something on your blog about Ava, so I just "came by" to read it. I used to go to Ava's grandpa's church when I lived in FL, and I was in a young adult group with Josh. Do you know them or did you read their story on Facebook or something (which I think is where I initially heard about it)? I am just so heartbroken and sad and so desperately hoping that somehow God will grant them a miracle.
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