For some reason, I’ve felt tired and a tad down today.
Anne, noticing my lowered countenance, said, “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m just feeling a little sad.”
“Well, come here, I can make you feel better.”
Leaning down, I expected her to kiss me or tell me something sweet, but instead she said… “Mommy, your head is made out of poopy.”
I burst out laughing, and she said, “I told you I could make you feel better!”
In my former life, I wanted to be a rock star.
And then I started singing in front of people and quickly concluded that my mediocrity would never cut it! But, I still love music and every now and then I pull out my guitar and get inspired to write a song.
A year ago, I sat down with my guitar and had a vision of writing a fun, upbeat song about Anne, but I didn’t want to sugar-coat our circumstances. I wanted it to be real. So, after I finished writing it, I thought, “this might actually be good.”
Last night at one of our church’s Arts events, I had the opportunity to sing Anne’s song with our church’s house band. It was so much fun! Eric took a rough video. The words are below if you want to follow along… (Note: the recording starts half-way through the 1st verse…)
Born to Last
by K. JacksonVerse 1
I have a picture of her in the garden skippin’
Hair blowing blonde in the sun kissed grass.
She was a wild star blazing, and a sweet song singing.
She’s her Daddy and her Momma’s little sassafrass.Verse 2
Well. One fine mornin’ we were cookin in the kitchen
and we headed out for errands in the family van.
One wrong turn, and our lives were shattered.
Now she’s fightin’ for her life just as best as she can.Chorus:
All of that heartache just fades to memory
in the broken girl that God’s made her now.
And we work to love her. And we’re blessed to know her.
She’s a living, breathing picture that was born to last.Verse 3
Now she struggles with the simplest task. And she asks,
“Mama, why’d God make my life so hard?”
I say, “Jesus says He has a good plan for ya.”
But it hurts to see your girl with an old man’s scars. (Chorus)Bridge
She wasn’t born to be an athlete or a beautiful lady in a magazine. No.
She was born to show the love that Jesus has for broken people like you and me.Verse 4
She’s a broken vessel tired and worn.
Only seven years old, yet she’s pressin’ on.
Well, I have a feeling – when we get to heaven,
She’ll be singing, spinning dancing at the front of the line.
Singing, Spinning, Dancing at the front of the line!
A book I’ve been reading, A Praying Life, uses the concept of story to paint how God chooses to answer or not answer our prayers.
Many times we get discouraged by unanswered prayer – but if we take a wide angle view, we begin to understand that God is weaving His story into our lives… if we let Him. Each day we have the choice to join the BIG story of God saving the world and us along with it – or to put blinders on and just survive the day. If you’re anything like me (and let’s hope you’re not) I jump in and out of the story throughout the day.
I typically start the day in a stupor – feebly asking for help to get through the day – and then carpool begins, and then my real challenge begins… Kate. I’m homeschooling Kate this year because she’s been neglected since Anne’s accident – and it shows. Every day is different – except for the tears. I think one of us has cried every day since school started… except for last Thursday – and that’s just because she was gone on a field trip all day.
Kate’s stubborn and angry heart is like hitting a wall – which leads me to pray. There is no way I can change her heart – that can only be done by God. And then other times, the same wall that causes me to pray – makes me frustrated and angry, and I feel like screaming (which I have done a few times). So, I’m jumping in and out of the story – I jump in – and admit my helplessness and beg God to give me wisdom.. and patience. I need lots of patience… and then I jump out and fail miserably – which leads me to jump back in and ask God for forgiveness and help.
The good news is that God is gracious – and during this time of wrestling with both Kate’s and my own heart, He is patient and waiting for me to turn to Him. I find when I start the day admitting my desperate need to shepherd Kate and begging Him to give her a soft, teachable heart – well sometimes, Kate is her old, sweet self again, delightful, joyful and fun. And other times, she is hard, but we are able to work through the stubbornness and find submission. God is there, waiting to help me.
A little consistency would be nice. I need help staying in the story.
Hi All :-)
The Jackson household is battling germs. Anne and I are both sick. Canon and Kate are getting over being sick. Now Eric feels sick.
I’m not feeling very eloquent… so here’s my random thought for the day :-) One of the things on my life “bucket list” is to publish a book one day. I know that being published won’t make me any more satisfied than I am right now, but I still dream about it. But, this is not my season. I’m too busy taking care of my kiddos…
But somehow my friend, Josh Irby, (who has three children younger than mine) has found the time to write and publish a book. And it’s really good! For those of you with e-readers, his book, Meeting Miss Irby, is greatly discounted this weekend… It’s very worth the few dollars and time it will take to buy it.
Meeting Miss Irby is only $2.99 on Kindle (this weekend only!) http://www.amazon.com/Meeting-Miss-Irby-ebook/dp/B007V4MMAO/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1347515559&sr=8-2&keywords=meeting+miss+irby
And it’s only 99¢ on Nook (this weekend only!) http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/meeting-miss-irby?keyword=meeting+miss+irby&store=ebook
Curling up with a good book sounds really good to this sick soul – but it’ll just have to wait until the kids are in bed :-)
Today is Anne’s birthday. Our sweet Anne is eight.
She is coming more alive every day. Her eyes are brighter. Her steps are smoother, and her mind is sharper. We still don’t know God’s ultimate plan for Anne – if she’ll ever be independent… But we can stop and give thanks for what He’s done.
He saved her. And she loves Him. What more could we ask for?
September 2012’s prayer requests:
Thank you!
Family. I’ve always longed for it.
My dad left when I was one years old. It was always just me and my mom. I didn’t care about family then – only success. But then Christ grabbed my heart in college, and my dreams changed.
I remember working summers in a Christian bookstore. In the “family” section was a book by Ruth Bell Graham. It was always turned so the cover faced out, and on it’s cover was a picture of family. Her family. I wept every time I passed that book. The longing for a family of my own was so deep. I learned not to walk through the “family” section that often :-)
God was gracious and granted me a family. One husband and two kids later, I longed for more. Just one more child to make us a bit more messy. A family of four was just too neat for me. And God was gracious, and gave us Kate.
I tried to savor the early years. Not being one who really enjoys babies, I think I did a pretty good job. But my eyes were always looking forward to when our youngest, Kate, would turn 4. By that time, the kids would be 8, 6 & 4 – and we could create moments that only independent children can.
Spontaneous moments to the beach, or quiet moments reading together at home. Moments building forts out of cushions in the living room and moments throwing rocks in the stream. I dreamed of my three little disciples – walking, chattering, laughing and living life with me.
But as is often the case, dreams don’t always come true. God had different dreams for us. 6 weeks before Kate was to turn 4, our family was in a horrific automobile accident. Kate’s older sister, Anne (5 at the time) was critically injured.
I remember calling our pastor’s wife from the ambulance. I calmly told her that I didn’t think Anne was going to make it.
“No, Kathryn. That can’t be true.”
“Sharon, Listen to me. I. Don’t. Think. She. Is. Going. To. Make. It. Please. Pray.”
Miraculously, by God’s mercy, Anne lived. We spent 73 days in the Children’s hospital. When we left, Anne was a shell of her former self. She sustained a severe traumatic brain injury. We are now a family marked by disability.
Anne cannot walk. She must be carried or wheeled everywhere we go. On the other hand, she is extremely talkative and loving. But the downside to that is that she has no inhibitions. She asks every stranger, “Can I sit in your lap?” It’s fascinating to watch people’s reactions… but that’s a different blog post :-)
I struggle with the demands of caring for a disabled child. And because Anne’s needs are so great, I struggle with how to make moments with my family. I wrestle with our new family. It’s not what I had dreamed for.
I’m in the middle of my story, and it’s all very messy! I don’t have the advantage of hindsight to say,“Oh, that’s what God was doing!” But God does give me glimpses.
My children are growing up in a home that demands great sacrifice. They are constantly giving up their own desires to serve their sister. Our oldest, Canon, can breathe life into Anne just by sitting beside her. I watch her soak up his presence, and they always laugh together. He spends time with her because he loves her, passionately. He defends her. He is forever changed… for the better.
Kate, our youngest, is now put in a role of caregiver. She dotes on Anne. She helps her buckle her seat belt, and helps her eat her meals. Kate’s life trajectory was drastically altered the day of the accident. She doesn’t have the luxury of being the carefree youngest of three. She is also changed… for the better.
And Anne. Sweet, precious Anne. Her life will always be hard. But her Spirit is strong. She is learning to depend on God in ways that us “healthy” folk can’t comprehend. She is also changed… for the better.
The moments in our family are characterized by hard physical nurturing and care for Anne. We live in heavy moments. Lightheartedness is a luxury. But we also experience profound moments of joy that can only be appreciated when you are in the midst of great trial. I treasure the joy. It is of the Spirit, a rare find in this world… And a gift I could not have experienced apart from the heart-brokenness of losing the little girl I knew to brain injury.
God is good. And the family he is building is good. Much, much better than the family I ever dreamed of. It’s just so much harder. But isn’t that true of anything worthwhile?
A few days ago, I was waiting in the front lobby of Nickajack Elementary to pick up Anne from school. Anne’s para-pro wheeled Anne out to meet me, and she was beaming. Anne’s para-pro has a hard job. She is with Anne all day to help her with all of her school tasks… everything from writing to bath-rooming.
“You look so happy today,” I said to her.
“I am! Anne had a great day. She did such good work today. It was a potato chip day!”
Now let me pause to explain… Potato chips are Anne’s absolute favorite food. She will do almost anything for a potato chip. In case you’ve forgotten, here’s a video from earlier this summer to prove it :-)
But back to my conversation with Anne’s para-pro…
She continued, “I am so proud of Anne. And I am so excited!“
Wow. There are several wonderful points I could make from this interchange… The first is that Anne’s para-pro is an answer to prayer. She feels called to work with special needs kids. She’s going back to school late in her life to get a degree in special education. She even works with special needs kids at her church. She’s older and wiser. She observes and is patient. She is a God-send.
But the second thought I walked away with was how foreign her lighthearted spirit was to me. I don’t experience lightheartedness very often since the accident. Our life is characterized by such hard physical care for Anne… most of the time, our lives seem heavy.
So I consider lightheartedness a luxury. And God gave me this luxury today :)
Canon got braces today, and I decided he didn’t need to go to school after such an ordeal. So, I brought Canon and Kate along with me to ride their bikes while I ran with some friends at the River. We veered off the wide, worn path to explore the narrow, rooty trails. Kate and Canon looked like Mountain Bike experts as they navigated the roots and rocks. And I was in heaven. I love trails. Love. them!
After our run, we decided (spontaneously) to pick up Anne early from school and then we all went out for milk-shakes. (A Milk shake for lunch makes tons of sense when your teeth are hurting from new braces.) We were all in the car, drinking our milkshakes and singing along to the radio when it hit me. I feel lighthearted.
I think God-given luxuries are the best. Don’t you?
That’s right. All three kids are going to different schools.
I felt like a pro this morning, getting all three kids up and ready and out the door. Not so last year. Last year I was a mess!
God has been so faithful to provide the perfect school situation for each of my kids.
So that’s our school year for 12-13. It promises to be a good, good year.
Life is made up of moments. In the midst of suffering, the only way to live is-
moment.
to.
moment.
Thinking of getting through the day or even through the next hour can be overwhelming. Living at the hospital following Anne’s accident taught me to live in the present, with my eyes fixed on the moment at hand.
Now that we have settled into our new normal, most of my moments tend to revolve around Anne. So in the middle of the relentless job of caring for a disabled child, if I happen to have a lighthearted, fun moment – well, I sit up and notice. It’s a gift. And I don’t take those rare, oh-so-good moments for granted.
I just had one with Kate. She’s fascinated with Olympic swimming. Have you seen the Swim Team’s “Call Me Maybe” video? We just watched it :-)
Another good moment from the summer… Playing in the pool with Kate and looking over to see Canon sitting under an umbrella with Anne, blowing bubbles – everyone had smiles. That was a good moment.
And I guess this is where I struggle, it’s hard to have those idyllic moments with the whole family. Anne rarely contends with being anything other than the center of everything. And as much as I love her, my moments with her require enormous amounts of patience. She’s been especially rotten and demanding today. And I’m out of patience. It’s gone, and I’m spent.
She’s up in her bed, hollering for me… “Mama!!!!! Mamaaaaaaaa!!!!!” I wish I could just sit here and watch the Olympics with my family and ignore her. But it’s hard. And I’m tired.
So that’s my moment. Tired mama, trying to ignore the cries of her little girl and longing to just sit and watch some Olympics. Where is God in moments like this? Right smack in the center – loving us and molding us into the people He wants us to be. In every moment, I have a choice… ignore God or acknowledge Him. Acknowledging Him- and His loving hand in every aspect of my life – lifts my eyes past my circumstances, past my tiredness and helps me to rest… even as I get up to see what in the world Anne is hollering about now ;-)
Crayons In My Water 