Healing

This is all just going to be some random ramblings. I had something I really wanted to share, but technology is preventing me from saying it the way it deserves to be said. We had a very cool weekend at church, where Beth was able to be a part of many people sharing their testimony. I have a very poor quality video (poor because it's hard to hold a camera still when you need to wipe away tears), that I cannot figure out how to get on here. The instructions seem so simple, but it's not working. We are getting a copy of the video from the church this weekend, so probably better to post that one anyway. So I'll patiently wait to talk about that another day.

We've had a lot of opportunities lately to reflect on what we went through with Beth. And I think the biggest thing I've noticed through that is just how much healing has occurred. In the beginning, not being fearful was a choice. We purposed to not let fear have a place in our lives, especially in relation to how we parented. I could have easily turned into a mother that hovered and hyper-controlled. Initially, I jokingly would say that I would like to wrap her in bubble wrap (protection and flotation all in one!) until she was 18. I was only half joking. There is that human instinct to protect at any cost, especially when you have the images in your mind that Brad and I have. But now that we have chosen to not walk in fear for so long, we find that it has become more genuine, more natural.

There are places within us that will forever have a special tenderness, and things that will hit an emotional trigger. I don't know if we'd be "normal" if a pool ever became a completely relaxing environment for us. Even now, as Beth swims laps with her dad and works on her flip turns (she's training for the Olympics, you know), I have a piece of me that wants to yank her out of the pool and run. But it's a smaller piece. It doesn't dominate. Peace dominates. Thankfulness dominates. Praise for my God who orchestrated her healing dominates. Even today, as Beth went through having some x-rays on her back (not a big deal...pesky soreness), I watched her laying on that table in a hospital gown...and had a small emotional moment. I just would prefer to never see her in that environment again. There is a completely illogical impulse to cry at the sight of that. My logic knows better, but it was just a trigger. Not everyone understands that. And that's okay. If you don't understand that, give a little praise that you haven't been there.

Speaking of, here's a little tip for being compassionate...don't ever say, "I understand how you feel." You don't. Two people can go through the exact circumstances and "feel" very different. Just let them feel what they need to feel. Someone said to us once, "I don't have to have walked in your shoes to know how you feel." I cannot write what I felt in response to that. It was, in that moment, condescending and insensitive. Not intended to be hurtful, but it was. We were raw, and it didn't take much.

Brenna also had her own reflection this week. In her Awana book, she had to write about a time she saw someone who needed to be saved or rescued. Ah, the timing! So she had an opportunity to talk through that, and I see her healing. Oh, how I wish I could erase some of the things Brenna saw. My most tender child, and she saw things that were too much even for me. But there again, my God is just so much bigger than that. I am so thankful when I see in her such an absence of fear. She has such a quiet confidence, and watching the miracle that unfolded after what she witnessed has only exploded her strength. As merciful as it was of the Lord to spare me losing a child, it was as merciful of Him to spare Brenna losing her best friend. I cannot imagine those two without each other.

And, even now, we welcome any opportunity to give the credit to the One who heals. It took the CPR. It took the miraculous quick-response of paramedics. It took the amazing doctors and nurses. It took a strong little girl who revels in stubbornly proving she can do something she's told she can't do. But above all, it took a God who oversaw it all, who heard our cries and answered our prayers with a yes. I don't know why sometimes His answer is no and sometimes it's yes. But I do know that He always answers. 100%