Broken

We know as Christians, that God works all things together for the good who love him and who are called according to his purpose. My head also knows that I am supposed to consider it joy when I encounter various trials and tribulations, knowing the testing of my faith produces patience. The funny thing is that the greatest distance traveled is from head to heart, a mere 15 inches.

I have been in a battle for my faith since I found out I was pregnant. Again I know this shouldn't throw me for such a loop, but it did. As I stared at that little stick turning a double positive pink I realized both slowly and quickly that the dreams I once nurtured were shutting down like your eyes shut down with tunnel vision just before you pass out. The cord was being pulled.

It has been and still is hard to let some things go. In many ways I feel like a worn piece of paper that had a million scribbles on it, plans I made in pencil, some in ink that were hastily rubbed off with a giant eraser. I can still see a faint outline of what was once there, Africa, adoption, travels, weight loss! ...

I lost faith and purpose when my so called dreams were scratched out leaving holes in parts of the paper. My life. My plans.

On the way to the park that Friday, my first day back after 8 weeks of morning sickness, I wandered quietly in the car.... If something bad were to happened would I even turn to God? It is interesting to me that even though this was just a quiet thought, I was allowed to see through the circumstances of my sons broken arm, my own heart.

When he ran to me, his arm shaped like an S, dangling and flapping as he stumbled towards me, fear and panick washing his face. Immediately I began to pray for it, God's life in me took over. The same way when I was a flight attendant, training took over in emergency situations. Oh sweet relief that the spirit of God lives in me and does not deny itself even in my faith weakened state.

I didn't stop praying but I did stop questioning a lot of things I had previously questioned. In fact outside of pouting and stomping my feet because my plans were "ruined" I don't really know what I was questioning to begin with!

The week was difficult. Two procedures done to his arm creating massive pain that I couldn't control. Thirteen hours without food or water. One and half bottles of Motrin downed, only to find out it had been recalled and the general disappointment as my son realized he was limited. My quest to control the universe failed.

I cannot say I weathered this little storm with grace. There were many tears as old fears found a way out of the box I hastily bound them in. Judah's experience with being overdosed and nearly dieing, pushed me further than I thought I could go. It took a small army of friends and family and a giant dose of the word of God to keep me grounded.

Prayers were answered in so many ways down to the right doctors and friends I didn't know I had, quick procedure and healing time.

I prayed Psalms 34 over and over. I still do. Now I am asking Mason to learn something in this still and quiet time. I am asking him to praise God despite his circumstances. I know how hard this is first hand as I had to consciously praise God for his good work despite what I saw and felt all around me. But like I said it wasn't pretty. I dare not say that just because we had a hard week and a broken arm that I have somehow figured it out. I think I scratched by only by the grace of God. I realized that I myself am broken, sick in the spirit, limping with foundations that have been compromised way before the storm hit. So that is where I am now. Going back to where I started, finding balance, being still. Just like Mason, waiting for the splint to set me right, then waiting for the cast to come off so I can fly!

Some things that haunted me where my very words written on this blog several years ago, describing Judah's ordeal. I wrote that I would never trust doctors again. Funny how I didn't realize what I had proclaimed and how it would affect me in the future. As my dad pointed out, "It is not in doctors that we put our trust but in God"