Words are where I begin to understand, gain perspective, to process this life we’re living, where I seek the Deep and discover God in the messy midst.
Words are where I feel my heart beat, where I seek hope unfolding like dew-wet wings waiting to fly.
Because we have five precious kids. Four with significant, long-term illnesses.
Amazing kids navigating the teenage years with diseases few have ever heard of and even fewer understand. These kids live with nausea and migraines and nerve pain, dizziness, light-headedness and fainting. Some struggle to eat, constantly battling weight loss. Some struggle with tremor. One has chronic hives.
We see a team of doctors and administer a pharmacy of medications.
And it’s hard. On them. On my husband. On me.
So I write. To find balance and perspective. To peal back the dark in search of Him.
Because nothing is simple or straight-forward or easy with chronically ill kids. It’s a puzzle. I’m constantly seeking one more piece, one more pattern, one more cause and effect, watching, waiting, evaluating, processing. Constantly processing.
And I wonder, every time I make a parenting decision is this necessary right now? Does my teen have the emotional bandwidth to process this today? How much are his or her symptoms playing into the words, the actions, the attitude? How important is it really to make this point, hold firm on this issue, or expect this task to be completed on time or even at all, right now right where we are?
So I write. Seeking wisdom. And perspective.
I write to wade through the chaos in search of Truth. Truth that never changes. Regardless of the storm.
Because I want so much for my kids.
I want them to be well, but even more I want them to know God. Not to know about Him, but to know Him. Deeply. Personally. Intimately.
Right here. Right where we are. Right where it’s hardest.
Even if never gets better. Even if healing waits just beyond the veil.
Even then. Especially then. I want them to reach out across the veil and grasp His hand. Know His touch.
So I write, to find meaning in these young adult lives flipped upside down, inside out, spun a hundred and eighty unexpected degrees.
I write to collect the hope spilling from their eyes, cradling it close to my heart.
I write to find the way, step-by-step through a future shrouded in fog.
I write to go on, rise up, pull the covers off each brand new day and seek the Light. Because it’s there.
Just beyond the dark. Iridescent wings glistening in the pastel dawn. Awaiting the sun’s gentle rays to rise and fly.
I write to seek Love. In every thought. Every word. Every breath. Made flesh.
For me. For us. Every one of the seven billion souls alive on this planet today.
The Word. His Word. Across the ages. Sewn into every moment. Every heart beat. Every breath.
I write always in search of Him.
*Deeply blessed by the friendship and online communities of Kelli Woodford and Nacole Simmons, and their recent blog series which inspired this post. You can visit them here: Six in the Hickory Sticks and Chronicles of Grace.