Saturday, July 19, 2008
The one thing I can't fix
We were alone again last night, just me and Chunks-a-lot. It was a weird feeling and didn't bring quite the rush of loneliness that I thought it would. Everything was so quiet as we walked our same beaten path along the halls of the hospital. She stopped to kiss the painted pictures of animals on the walls, danced to some music that was playing nearby and played with Mr. Potato Head and all his wonderful parts. Occasionally, she would glance up, making sure I was there and would softly mumble, "Momma". She didn't want me to pick her up, she would just flash me a smile and go back to playing. I stared at her, almost in a daze, for what seemed like an hour. I examined the shunt that runs down the back of her head, the patches of hair that have refused to fall out, her little pants that just barely stay up above her hips.....and I felt helpless. I can feed her, bathe her, care for her needs, play with her and love her, but I can't do the one thing that she desperately needs...."fix" her. You go throughout your motherhood years sometimes feeling like a champion. You can bandage a scraped knee, kiss away hurt feelings and chase out scary under-the-bed monsters; you're a super-mom. That's how I felt with Talks-a-lot, I could be everything that he needed me to be and then some. Yet here I am with this sick little girl and I'm helpless. I feel like everyday is just another piece of sand that has dropped. It's almost like we got here and were handed an hourglass with only a certain amount of time left..... and everyday is just one day less that we have with her. But then I think, no, how about this: everyday is just one more day that I get to spend with her. These people, these doctors and specialists might give us an estimate as to how much life she has left to live before this cancer overtakes her, but who are they? They do their research and their tests and they just keep searching, yet the cure still evades them. Then there's this God, this Savior, this Holy Spirit who holds the cure to all of life's ailments; physical, emotional, and spiritual. Isn't it He who gives us time on this earth and then decides when our time is done? Isn't it He who knows our life from beginning to end before we even live it? Should I put so much of my faith in a doctor's timeline or in God's merciful timing. Because I look at this little girl, this unbelievably precious little angel and I see how man has tried time and time again to "fix" her. The shunt that drains the fluid off her brain, the scars from surgeries done to correct life-threatening problems caused by her tumor, the IV line carrying Chemo into her body, destroying her while saving her at the same time. This is the way of man. Then I look to Christ and I see Him, raising her body up in resilience each time she's down, carrying her through the days of sickness and tears, filling her full of His spirit so when she should be down she's still going strong and ultimately giving her the strength and endurance to fight the battle of her life. He holds the cure in His hands, but it's all in His timing. He allowed her to fall off our bed and discover all of this, and in that, His timing saved her life. And regardless of whether or not I understand His plan, I can believe in it because God has already shown Himself in this trauma. I can pray that God will work through man to save this little girl, but ultimately it will be Jesus Christ who will give her relief from this cancer. Whether that relief be through the healing of her physical body or through the healing that comes through entering the gates of heaven, I'll let Him decide. But I won't stop fighting for her and I won't stop begging for her life. I'll still wipe her tears, I'll still bandage her scrapes and I'll still cradle her in my love, but I'll let Him "fix" her.