He carries us still

“Really, God? Haven’t we gone through enough already? After all, we’ve already endured the loss of a child. Isn’t that enough suffering for one family? “

These are the questions I’ve grappled with when considering our son’s pending surgery. There’s no reason we can’t be real with the Lord, right? After all, He already knows what we’re thinking.

It’s tempting to think that once we have suffered a certain threshold of pain, there should be a hedge of protection around us. As if we’ve paid our dues, reached our limit of suffering, and wear the badge.

Unfortunately, life simply doesn’t work that way. Trials don’t discriminate and life continues to come.

Honestly, my heart hurts. My only remaining boy is having to undergo open heart surgery tomorrow. The flesh in me wants to avoid this experience like the plague, grab our bags, leave and go on living in denial. The uneasiness of sitting in a cold hospital room while listening to a stranger tell me all of the risks involved in the procedure is unnerving to say the least. 

Holding my breath while walking the halls, praying that a sight or sound won’t trigger PTSD, keeps my stomach in knots. My last memory of sitting in a waiting room while desperately praying for good news, only to have our world come crashing down, shakes me to the core.

Hard times are never fun to walk through, but Reppard and I have genuinely learned to view them in a different light. Would we have preferred to experience the miracle of healing that we had prayed for. In fact, I had to choke back tears this morning as the echo revealed that the heart issue remained, crumbling all remaining hope of of that miracle.

But, it’s in the midst of those trials that my husband and I have come to know an intimacy with Jesus that is sweeter than any healing can bring. We have come to know that He is always there, meeting us in the most personal ways, never leaving us. It is in the hard times that we develop a dependency on Jesus that we wouldn’t have otherwise had. That, my friends, is eternal. 

Those moments of intimacy with our savior have been the most beautiful experiences this earthly life has afforded me.

So as we walk these hospital floors, going from room to room and test to test, Reppard and I have a choice to make. We have the opportunity to choose how we are going to respond to this trial we face.

We will continue to trust the one that knows us better than we know ourselves. We trust God and his sovereignty and we choose to lean into Jesus. He has strengthened us before and He will strengthen us now.

Early tomorrow morning, as our middle man is being wheeled back into an operating room, we will wait in expectant anticipation. Anticipation to hear God’s voice in the quietness of our hearts and to feel His peace and the strength of his presence surrounding us. Anticipation for Him to show us that He is there for us in ways that only He can do. Because, my friends, that’s who Jesus is and that’s a small snippet of the beauty of a relationship with Him.

Thank you all so much for your prayers and thank you so much for loving us as much as you have. Your prayers carried us after the loss of Sawyer and we know they will carry us now. We love you all more than you could possibly know.