Kathryn’s Blog

All who are thirsty…

Is God enough?

A friend of a friend is wrestling with this question… I don’t even know her, but I wrestle too. Her marriage is excruciatingly disappointing. She has a child with a chronic, possibly fatal disease. I don’t share her circumstances, but i do share her question.

I can’t wrestle for her. I’ve done enough wrestling myself. But I can wrestle with her.

I’ve been running lately – straight away from God. I’ve been seeking solace in other things… not bad things – just busy things. And you know what? I’m spent. I can’t run anymore. But I’m also too tired to seek the only One who is enough.

A friend of mine came over today to help me plant a flower bed. We worked hard as the sun rose high in the sky. We finished, and she took the water hose and watered. And watered. And watered. She’s older than I am, and therefore more patient. I watched in wonder as she found peace in the water spray hitting the newly planted flowers. Drink… Drink. Stay awhile and drink, my child.

Oh Living Water. I am thirsty, oh so thirsty. I want to drink – it’s the staying awhile that I have difficulty with…

I went out at dusk to water. I tried to linger. And I received… a drop of peace. One drop to this parched soul is more satisfying than all of my busy substitutes. The one drop gives me the answer. No more running. Only God is enough.

Neuroamazing

I was talking to Eric the other night about a thought God has given me… First a little background :-)

I’ve always been fascinated by the brain – from as early as I can remember, I wanted to grow up to be a brain scientist (that would be a neurologist, but I didn’t know that word back then!) Anyway, the hook for me was the mystery of it all. And after all the technical and scientific progress we’ve experienced since my childhood, the brain still remains a mystery to the medical community.

I know this is going to sound crazy, but… before the accident, I would climb the stairs to Anne’s darkened room, make my way to her sleeping form, kneel beside her bed and thank God for her brain. Sometimes, I would even put my forehead against hers – just to drink in what I perceived as the awesomeness of her brain. She was so complex, so deeply emotional, fiercely intuitive… Now she is simple…. so very simple.

I was crying out to God about how much I missed Anne… Why her brain, Lord? Her brain – it was beautiful; it was amazing, and now it is… even more amazing… If you look at Anne’s MRI, it is dismal. Severe, diffuse brain damage… diffuse meaning everywhere. Yet she is able to reason, laugh and spontaneously say, “I love you, Mommy.” Anne’s brain is a miracle, and a testimony to the Master Creator. It was like God was saying to me… “You can still marvel, Kathryn.” As Anne regains function, it’s like a layer of the mystery is peeled away, and I get to see a little of how He knits together His masterpiece.  Anne’s brain is neuroamazing :-)

Hear me roar!

Control. It’s every woman’s greatest temptation. And I’ve fallen… again.

We’re thinking about moving. Well, we’re more than thinking, we are working to put our house on the market. I remember thinking that after this past year and all the lessons God has (tried) to teach me about trust, that trusting Him to sell our home would be easy… It’s a house – not my daughter. If I could learn to trust God with my own flesh and blood, how much easier would it be to trust Him with a temporary object?

Ugh. I give myself way too much credit.

From the moment we decided to pursue moving, I jumped in… cleaning, de-cluttering – trying to get the house perfect as fast as I possibly could. And when Eric decides to go at a different pace, or use a different strategy – well… Hear me Roar!

Oh Jesus, you’d think I would have learned just a little about trust – just a little? Tonight’s devotional from Streams in the Desert was like a punch right in my gut: Remain still before Him, and stop your own restless working until He begins to work. Do nothing that He Himself has not commanded you to do. Allow God time to work and He surely will.

Trust, Kathryn! Stop trying to control everything. Stop. Stop! Help your husband and trust God to work. …As Anne would say, “Easy-Peasy.” HA!

Radio Silence

Sorry for the long absence. The month of May marks the end of school, and since my three children are in three different schools… well, we’ve been busy. Kate’s last day was Friday; Canon & Anne both finish Wednesday, and our summer will begin.

Frankly, I’m a little anxious about summer. I usually love having my children at home, but Anne is in a “demanding” phase which makes life difficult. But it forces me to interact with her, which is vital for her continued development and recovery.

Adding to my anxiety is the fact that I have been a bit lazy about reading the bible lately – which is always a source of great comfort for me. I’m sure God still has a good plan for Anne’s life – it’s just hard for God to remind me when I’m not reading His word!

Sigh. I can’t wait for heaven :-)

A Moment

I can’t tell you how many times God has shown up in the most personal of ways to encourage me in my darkest moments. One of my favorite moments happened just two days after the accident. I couldn’t even walk to the PICU to see Anne; I had to be pushed in a child-sized wheel chair by my friend, Christy. Anne’s head was swollen to twice its normal size and the pressure in her brain was dangerously high. Her survival was still in question, and I wasn’t well enough to stay with her. Leaving my little girl – not knowing if she would live – was one of my lowest points. Continue reading →

Canon’s prayer

Just weeks after the accident, I had a hard conversation with Canon about Anne… “Anne’s brain has been hurt. We don’t know how that will affect Anne. There could be things about her that will be different.” Canon, in honorable big-brother fashion, took all this in, cried a bit and turned brave. All the time Anne was in the hospital, Canon prayed, “God, please help Anne talk and walk and run again.  But we know that none of these things matter compared to this: please let her remember her faith in you.” The first time he prayed this, I inwardly screamed, “NO! Those things DO matter. I want her to talk. I want her to walk.” And if I were honest, I wanted my Anne back more than I wanted her to “remember her faith” in God.

God has changed me. That’s the only explanation for what I’m about to write. Now – my greatest desire is for her to remember her faith in God… For her to know Him intimately, and to tell of His mighty works in her life. For her to know His love that is wider and higher and deeper than her wildest dreams. If from eternity past, God knew that Anne would have to pass through this tragedy and suffer physical and cognitive disability in order to win her heart for Himself – well so be it. We’ll walk this road and rejoice for the eternity we’ll spend made whole in heaven.

Canon doesn’t pray that prayer anymore… but I pray it for him. God let Anne know you…. and she will be healed, forever.

Three voices

I’m reading three books right now… This seems all too common, but it’s new ground for me. I’m not used to having three different authors competing for my attention. It just leads to lots of unorganized thoughts swirling around in my head, but I think the clearest voice right now comes from Nancy Guthrie. Her book, Hearing Jesus Speak into Your Sorrow is excellent.

She lost two infants to the same rare genetic disorder. She knows sorrow. And her questions are the same questions I’ve grappled with. Why doesn’t Jesus heal today like He did when He walked the earth? How do we reconcile His promises of protection and peace in the midst of hurricanes and terrorists (and brain injuries)? Who is responsible for my sorrow… me? Satan? God? Did God just allow the accident to happen – or did He ordain it?

These are hard questions, and she gives satisfying answers. She writes that it is our eternal home that is most important to God. My honest reaction to that reminds me of Kate whining when she has to wait ’til after dinner to get her desert. Seriously, child? Don’t you have any concept of delayed gratification? Well, I guess the apple doesn’t fall too far from… me.

Which leads me to the 2nd book I’m reading… Ann Voskamp’s One Thousand Gifts. Her book is all about how to “Live Fully Right Where You Are.” It’s a great book about how thankfulness opens the door to joy, but I’m too busy whining (like Kate) to experience very much gratitude- at least for now…

My third book is a Romanian pastor’s doctoral thesis on suffering, matyrdom and the rewards of heaven… He argues that suffering on earth advances the Kingdom of Heaven – the prime example being Jesus, Himself. If we are called to suffer and/or die for the Kingdom, it is a great Eternal victory! There’s that word again… eternal.

I’ve actually learned alot about eternal perspective from Canon. I think I’ll write about that tomorrow. Good night for now…

Bedtime Stories

I was putting Anne down for a nap the other day, and she asked, “Mama, will you please tell me a story?” Who can resist that?

Once upon a time there was a little girl who was very special in the eyes of God. “Is that me mommy?” Yes, Anne, it’s you. And that little girl could twirl and sing. She used to love singing songs to Jesus. “Was that me mommy?” Yes, Anne. That was you.

But one day, that little girl was in a horrible accident and had to go to the hospital. She almost died, but God sent angels to protect her, and He saved her from dying. She was asleep a long time, but when she woke up, she couldn’t move or speak. She couldn’t even move her eyes. “I couldn’t move anything, mommy.”

But slowly, God began to heal her. First, she started to speak, and then she could move her eyes, and then her arm and then her legs, and God is still helping her to get better… because He has good plans for her; plans to give her a – “future and a hope. He is going to give me a future and a hope. And he is helping me to get better and better – even today.”

That’s right, Anne. You are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which He has prepared in advance for you to do.

…I love you Anne. “I love you poo-poo, Mommy.” Night-Night, silly girl. “Night-Night.”

There is so much to love about our new Anne!!

Rabbit’s Embarrassing Moment

Okay… this is my absolute favorite of Canon’s Rabbit & Squirrel Stories. This one makes me laugh out loud at the end!! (If you want to read his others stories, click here :-)

Rabbit’s Embarrassing Moment

Rabbit and Squirrel are hanging out in rabbit’s burrow.

Rabbit: Squirrel, you want to have a jumping contest?
Squirrel: Uh, what kind? Up or across?
Rabbit: Up. And you can’t back out of the contest now.
Squirrel: Oh come on!

Squirrel jumps up and goes about half way to the ceiling (about 1 ½ feet up in the air).

Rabbit (laughing): Is that all you got?

Rabbit jumps up, hits his head on the ceiling and face-plants himself into the dirt below.

Rabbit (with his head in the dirt): Hey, who turned out the lights?
Squirrel: Um, actually you just face-planted yourself in the dirt.
Rabbit (thinking, I’m way too good of a jumper to do that…): No, really squirrel. Turn back on the lights.
Squirrel: Okay rabbit, here I go!

And squirrel grabs rabbit’s tail and pulls him out of the dirt.

Squirrel (while pointing to the rabbit-sized hole in the dirt): There’s proof that you face-planted yourself into the dirt.
Rabbit: Oh. Can I try again?
Squirrel: Nope.
Rabbit: Well, I’m used to jumping outside.
Squirrel: Well next time, we can have the contest at my house, and you can knock yourself out when you face-plant into my TREE!
Rabbit: Ugh.

That place

As I was leaving the driveway this morning, my mind was churning and autopilot kicked in and I found myself at that place. It had been a long time since I’d been there – what used to be automatic has now turned into avoidance – except for now… I looked left – into the huge 4-lane and found it empty (thank God) – but against my will all the images come rushing back. The truck, the impact, the blood and the lifeless heap of Anne in the back seat. The still, small voice whispering amidst the urgent movement of emergency workers, “Rest, Kathryn. Rest.” And my mind comes back to the present… This place. I hate this place. Will I ever be able to accept what God’s given with submission and gratitude? Will grief always take me by surprise and leave me broken and raw? This place… The road is empty – both left and right. I turn left across the lanes. Thank you Jesus. Thank you.