A deposit… of things to come

I was just outside playing basketball against Canon and Kate. I was guarding Canon, and Canon yells, “Down low, Kate – go low.” Canon and I turn around to see Kate kneeling down “low” to the ground. We both burst out laughing. For you basketball newbies, “Go low” means go toward the goal and be ready for the ball. We were playing while Eric was inside putting Anne to bed. (And now Eric is playing basketball with Canon while I stay inside with Anne…)

This is just one example of how the dynamics have changed within our family. Because Anne gets so tired in the evenings AND because of her disability… Canon and Kate are together alot.

In the beginning, this was difficult because Canon projected his grief onto Kate. There was lots of bickering. Now that Canon understands the true source of his grief, he has prayed for his relationship with Kate to improve – (which is AMAZING. My jaw almost hit the floor when I heard him praying for that!)

The other day Canon said, “God has changed my heart towards Kate. I really like playing with her now.” It’s true. They have so much fun together!

Even though their relationship is wonderful, and brings me much joy… lately I’ve been more aware of Anne’s absence in their play – which has made me sad.

Last night, Anne had an extra boost of energy, so she was able to stay up later with Canon and Kate. Instead of two kids playing, it was three. They were all wrestling and tickling each other on the living room floor. There were lots of squeals and laughter.

As I watched the THREE of them playing, I felt especially aware that this was God’s gift to me – a deposit, if you will – of things to come.

It is so hard to accept this new life God has given us. I’m tired of feeling sad. I just want to submit and accept and move on. I still feel like God’s hand is pressing me down into grief – like I have more work to do – more wrestling. It WILL end, and God will help us to submit and rest – all in His timing.

We covet your prayers…

  1.  for comfort and rest for Anne – that she would know God’s love for her
  2. for perseverance for Anne – and for all of us :-)
  3. that we could find joy in her current recovery and trust God for her future (instead of worrying about it).
  4. And for God to continue His healing work in Anne!

THANK YOU! -kathryn


I feel like that word describes most of my life right now.

Will Anne ever walk again? Unknown
Will Anne ever NOT need diapers? Unknown
Will Anne ever progress past Kindergarten material? Unknown
Where will Canon and Kate go to school next year? Unknown
Will Anne grow out of her temper-tantrum phase? Unknown
How will God provide for all of our needs? Unknown

I could go on and on and on. I’ve never felt so out of control in my whole life.

From a wide angle perspective, that’s a good place to be… broken and dependent on God’s perfect provision. But from a narrow, nitty-gritty perspective – well, lots of colorful adjectives come to mind, but I’ll just say… it’s hard.

Bottomline… I’m struggling with trust. Sweet Canon was weeping over Anne the other day, and I go into my speech about how we are in a dark tunnel, and it’s a hard place to be, but the tunnel WILL END, and God is with us in the tunnel. And Canon just cried, “But I don’t feel Him in the tunnel. Where is He?” And I just held him tight and said nothing, because I’ve been feeling the same way.

Truth vs. feelings… Do we trust in the staff of God’s word? I will never leave you or forsake you… I am with you always. I delight over you. Have I not commanded you…be strong and courageous, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. Where can I go from Your Spirit? Where can I flee from Your presence? I lift my eyes up to the hills. Where does my help come from? My help comes from You, maker of heaven and earth.

Thank you to everyone I see that tells me that you follow us on Caring Bridge. It’s a reminder to me that we are not alone on this journey, but we have myriads of God’s people praying for us.

Would you please pray for the following:

  1. That there would be an end to diapers. That Anne would learn to use the potty again.
  2. That Anne would gain endurance and not get SO tired and difficult in the evenings.
  3. That Anne’s attention and impulsivity would continue to improve.
  4. That Anne’s desire to break the rules would wane, and her desire to obey and do what is best would improve.
  5. That Anne would sense God’s presence and know His love for her
  6. That God would give us wisdom for Canon & Kate’s schooling.

Finally, Anne has been talking alot about what she wants to be when she grows up. Amazingly, her list of professions is the same as it was before the accident. She either wants to be a “cooker” or a “teacher.” Cooking and playing school were her favorite activities this time last year. In fact, the morning of the accident, Anne had taken over the entire kitchen creating one of her crazy concoctions. It was almost time to pick up Kate from pre-school, and I said, “Anne, we have to leave soon. Please clean up EVERYTHING…now.” And she obeyed immediately, with no complaints. Sweet, precious Anne. I’ve been praying lately, that she would grow up to be a teacher. I would love it, if others prayed that for Anne too :-)

Thank you! -kathryn

Glimmer of relief

We have struggled a little more lately with the amount of service required to raise little Anne. Sometimes we have just felt tired. We pray that Anne continues to grow and learn and sharpen because we want what is best for her. But selfishly we also ask God for some relief.

Then a tiny glimmer of relief comes in an unusual way to
me. The scene in our Honda van traveling around town: everyone singing loudly to Christian radio, with Kathryn teaching us to insert a few lyrics of our own to some well known songs. . . . Anne grinning ear to ear:

Brandon Heath’s “Wait and See”

There is hope for Anne yet
Because God won’t forget
All the plans He has for “me”
I have to wait and see …He’s not finished with Anne yet

Chris Tomlin’s “God of this city”

For greater things are yet to come,
And greater things are still to be done in our Annie-B
Greater things have yet to come
And greater things are still to be done in our Annie-B

I get a giant lump in my throat when I sing that Chris
Tomlin song with Annie-B inserted. God is so personal and close to give us these songs, to give us Kathryn who can ‘see’
to change these songs for Anne, to give little Anne back to us, and to give us the chance to wrestle with him as a family through this difficulty which molds our character a little more to His likeness.


A child’s grief

Anne has started showing more signs of self awareness, and she’s also asking some difficult questions…

“I’m sad that i have a brain injury, dada.”
“Mama, I’m sad that i can’t walk.”
“Daddy, why did God let me get hurt in the accident?”

And Canon has begun to process his grief….

Weeping, Canon said, “I cant imagine Anne ever getting better. I can’t imagine her ever walking. I just want things to go back to the way they were before the accident. I want to go back to that day and tell you to go a different way, mommy.”

There are no easy answers for our 6 and 8 year old children. They reflect my own questions and grief. God in his goodness has met us in our grief and uncertainty. And he will continue to walk us through this tunnel to the end.

Please pray for us as we seek wisdom and comfort.
Thank you :-) -kathryn

Looking back at 2010

Eric shared a verse with me tonight. It pretty much sums up our year…

2 Corinthians 4:16-18: So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.

Eric said at Thanksgiving that he was thankful for this year. It is not what we would have chosen for Anne or for our family, but we’ve seen God deepen our dependence upon and love for Him through this ‘light and momentary affliction.’

We are grateful for God working out His purposes through us and for the love and prayer you all have given to us.

Here’s to a joy-filled 2011!

Love, Kathryn (for all the Jacksons)

Struggling with Christmas

I just got home from our church’s Christmas program rehearsal. Three of us are particpating in it, so it was a busy night!

Tonight’s rehearsal crystalized some thoughts for me – as I’ve been wrestling with why I’m struggling with Christmas this year. I didn’t want to put up the tree, but I did it- for the kids’ sake. I didn’t want to deal with presents or wrapping paper. I don’t like seeing all the lights. It’s all so painful – b/c it’s all tainted with grief.

I think for the first time in my life, I find myself wanting to push past all of this christmas-y stuff – and find Jesus. I have this image in my mind of unwrapping this huge box that is covered with commercial christmas paraphernalia. And the box is really hard to unwrap and open – layers and layers and layers of paper and packing tape and packing material – to finally uncover the tiny Christ child – hiding in the bottom of the box.

Thinking of the Holy Night of Christmas requires discipline to be still – but thankfully, it is where I’ve found comfort this Christmas season…

And I’ve needed comfort… I am taking Anne to the neurologist tomorrow morning b/c we think she might be having seizures. We’ve been calling them “episodes.” She’ll zone out and jerk her body slowly. They last anywhere from 30 seconds to 2 or 3 minutes and they are SO difficult to watch. It’s just a painful reminder that my sweet little girl has a serious brain injury.

Will you pray for us tomorrow morning?

  1. that the neurologist will have wisdom to properly diagnose Anne, and
  2. that I wouldn’t get so anxious when these episodes do happen, and finally,
  3. that they would DISAPPEAR :-)

Trying to find Jesus at the bottom of the box… -kathryn

Dark days

Sorry that we haven’t posted in a while… Sometimes we don’t post because there just isn’t much to report – or it could be because we’re insanely busy… But this time it’s because I’ve been unusually sad. I don’t know whether it’s the Christmas season or other circumstances, but I just feel spent and downcast.

I’ve experienced enough dark seasons in my life to know that it won’t always be like this! One day I’ll look back at this Christmas, and be SO thankful that I’ve lived through it and don’t have to go back :-)

But something I read tonight encouraged me a little… It’s from December 13th’s entry of Streams in the Desert:

“Sometimes the darkness in our lives is worse, because we cannot even see the web we are weaving or understand what we are doing. Therefore we are unable to see any beauty or any possible good arising from our experience. Yet if we are faithful to forge ahead and ‘if we do not give up’ (Gal. 6:9), someday we will know that the most exquisite work of our lives was done during the days when it was the darkest.”

Oh I hope it is true!

…I am taking Anne to visit her new teacher tomorrow. Please pray for God to use her and the other students in Anne’s class for good in Anne’s life – and for God to use Anne for good in their lives as well.

Forging ahead :-) – kathryn

Stomping and Staring…

So sorry that I haven’t updated the site in a while… Simply put, I just feel sad. I miss Anne when she’s at rehab. I miss the old Anne when she’s at home. The physical demands of caring for Anne coupled with the emotional work of grieving is just exhausting.

I feel like God is prompting me to accept the fact that the old Anne is just that – old. And then to trust Him to make the new Anne better than she was before… But I’m resisting.

I feel like Kate when she gets mad. She stomps her feet and looks at me with a real mean stare. It takes all of my will-power not to laugh at her! Clearly her stomping and staring do nothing to sway my will. I still know best – whether she likes it or not ;-)

I know God knows best, but I don’t like it right now, and I just want to stomp my feet a little longer. But I won’t stomp long – it’s just too painful…

Only God has the power to heal and shape Anne. He loves her and has good plans for her – plans to prosper her, to give her a future and a hope.

God is near – even when I’m stomping and staring.

Praying unceasingly for little Anne – kathryn


…Anne is home. Anne has really done so well adjusting to home – even with the juxtaposition of having many new experiences for Anne mixed into the familiarity of home:

  • she has learned to sit on her own for 5 minutes or so before falling over.
  • Anne has continued to eat really well, although she still makes an enormous mess :-)
  • she is sleeping better here than at the hospital
  • she seems happy and is only fussy when hungry or constipated
  • we took her to the pool and she enjoyed a short water therapy session

Canon and Kate have been really sweet and are always wanting to assist Anne. Anne pokes their eyes, pulls their hair, and squeezes their noses, but Canon and Kate just love on her. Tonight Kate said to Anne right after Anne pulled Kate’s hair – “I love you, Anne”. Somehow at 4 years old, Kate understands where Anne is in her recovery and is willing to be on the journey with Anne – only God could make that happen.

Pray for Kathryn – it has been hard: While at the hospital, the comparison was the miracle of Anne moving from the stillness and silence of the PICU to Anne’s speech and movement while at inpatient rehab . . . . but at home, we are much more reminded of (and mentally compare her to) Anne’s little person prior to the accident. So we continue to have joy through some tears when remembering the past . . . . but we know God calls us to be in the present with Him . . . . and Anne.

The day rehab program starts on Monday, so our journey continues. . .

Pray that Anne will continue to heal! We have three goals for our stint at day rehab – Reading, Writing, and Walking. Please pray that God heals Anne in these ways.



Over the last week, little Anne has been what we are calling ‘over active’ with her movements and her speech (and thoughts). She has trouble controlling her movements, her emotions, and what she says. She is the opposite end of the spectrum from where she was when she entered rehab several weeks ago. We know this is part of the healing process, and it is progress, but has its challenges. This activeness is physically and emotionally draining for us – and Kathryn has been in the trenches fighting with little Anne daily in her rehab. Pray that God continues to send fortifications for the two of them.

Anne was particularly fussy this afternoon and this evening, so Anne and i decided to sing this song together tonight:

Lord, you are more precious than silver
Lord, you are more costly than gold.
Lord, you are more beautiful than diamonds, and
nothing I de-sire com-pares with you.

This really calmed her while we were singing.

Kathryn and i continue to be so blessed by all of you who are reaching out to us by praying, and by giving of your time and resources to help us. i so look forward to telling Anne’s story over and over and over in the coming years. A story to tell to my neighbors now, to my children as they grow, and to my grandchildren when i am old and grey. A story of how in little Anne’s time of need, God provided healing, and how God’s family showed up with a mighty force of support, help, and care. i knew God’s strong arm of healing and support was there in theory, but to experience his help and such a tangible way continues to be amazing. i find it difficult to pray any prayers but thankful ones these days – we are just so grateful that so many are on the journey with us – it makes no logical sense that all of you would be reaching out in this way – but in God’s economy, what seems foolish to man is wise (1 Cor 1:18-21).