So the doctor said she still has to have surgery. We prayed and you prayed and still we have to face the dreaded surgery. And I am so thankful that my baby girl will be able to walk and run and twirl someday because this is available to us. But I am disappointed that God’s plan for this whole deal is different than mine. Mark my words that eventually I will be grateful because of the lessons and the deepening and the yada yada yada. But this feels crappy and it’s not what I want.
And yet God promised in Romans Chapter 8 that He “works ALL things together for good, for those that love him and are called according to His purpose.” And I have witnessed that more times than I can count.
But I am dreading it. And feeling frustrated that God didn’t just change the story.
That’s the thing. As much as I know about life and suffering and the good it can produce, I still don’t want to do hard. I don’t want my baby to be in pain. I don’t want to hold off on nursing her for hours before surgery so she can go under anesthesia. I don’t want her to wake up in recovery with her little body in a cast. I don’t want to rent a special car seat and not bathe her for months. I don’t want her to have to wait to roll over and crawl. I don’t want her (or me) to sit on the sidelines all summer because she can’t get wet or get sand in her cast or cool off when she needs to. Ugh.
But I tell myself to quit my bellyaching because life is hard and it is much much harder for so many. And I teeter-totter back and forth between “I hate this” and “this isn’t so bad.” I want to pray this surgery away because I want God to be known and shown to be the healer and miracle maker that He is. But I also want to get out of doing hard things. And I want my little Poppy to get out of doing hard things.
Harper gave it to Sawyer for Christmas and we had to send away for the ants. The ants arrived the day we were at the hospital bringing Poppy into the world and Sawyer was so elated that Brian made sure they set up the deal and released the ants as soon as he got home. These creatures have been doing the hard work of digging paths to make sense of the world (green gel) they live in. And besides the fact that most of them are now dead, I feel like we have the same work ahead of us each day. The other day I actually sat watching and cheered them on.
Hard is good. Hard is good. But maybe that’s not really true until years later when the hard things have dug their passages through the muck and uncovered treasures that we wouldn’t have otherwise found.
When God doesn’t do the miracle we asked Him for, it feels like a big blow. This big and powerful God of mine that cares about my cares, didn’t come through.
He didn’t come through in the way I wanted Him to, hoped he would, expected Him to. But whoa…hold on there tiger, HE ALWAYS COMES THROUGH. He is doing something good. He didn’t walk out of the doctor’s office. He isn’t going to forget the surgery date or the frustrating days and sleepless nights ahead. He will be present as we dig those tunnels through the muck and discover the treasures. And His presence will meet us, keep us, hold us.
This is yet another opportunity for depth. Deeper compassion, deeper commitment, deeper love. And if I’ve learned anything from writing, it’s that I often discover the same things over and over again. So I leave you with this- from my first blog post 2+ years ago-
But I also want depth. In my relationships, in my work, in the way I see the world. More than anything I want to see God and frankly that depth often finds its route through our aches and longings. Suffering makes things dark and cloudy, but if we wait long enough and dig deep enough, He’ll be there. Every trial has some golden threads. He weaves them in to remind us that He loves us and that we’re not alone.
“He is near to the broken-hearted.” Psalm 34:18
Jesus makes a lot of “I am” statements (I am the light, the door, the shepherd, the truth…) and ultimately just says “I am.” Period.
“I am here.” Not just “I was” or “I will be,” but now, “I AM.” Wherever you’re at, He is sufficient. He lacks nothing. He is complete.
Woven throughout scripture and throughout my life is the truth that He digs deepest. He reminds us, He pursues us.
And when he reaches us, He has what we need.
Thanks for praying with me and for pouring out your love and support during our hard things. I know your things are hard too, and I’m glad we can dig through the green gel side by side.