Refined by the Fire

Each year on Thanksgiving we go to a local Christmas tree farm and pick out the perfect tree for Daddy to cut down. I love this tradition! We then spend the rest of the day decorating the house while blaring Christmas music and we finish the day with a Christmas movie by the fire. Yes, we are THOSE people. Our anniversary, our daughter’s first birthday, and now thanksgiving all spent apart, and it doesn’t feel fair. What was supposed to be a week in the hospital has now been over a month. We are settling into a new normal, which is bitter-sweet. Adjusting to no Husband or Father is something I never want to fully get acquainted with. I am guilty of getting wrapped up in tradition and instead of breaking a tradition I’d rather cancel the traditions all together. I know it is selfish of me. I don’t want to hold so tightly to tradition and the unfairness of our situation that I miss the beauty of what is right in front of me. I have three sets of eyes all watching me intently, they need tradition now more than ever. I think of the Pharisees so caught up in the broken traditions that they missed the miraculous savior right in front of them. There is beauty in the brokenness. God is moving mountains right in front of our eyes and the kids get a front row seat to see God working. Yes, there is pain and heartache but there is beauty too. God is moving, He is a way-maker as well as a light in the darkness. Our kids will be able to shout how great God is from the rooftops someday because they have seen it first hand in their Daddy’s life. When we see a flood, God sees a promise. When I see a dead end, He sees a new beginning. The cycle of nature is similar, nature adapts to destruction such as forest fires and we can see life grow from its ashes. The same can be true about us. If we allow it the heat of the fire can purify instead of destroy us. It's an adjustment to focus on the beauty instead of pain, and that doesn’t mean you don’t lament. Grief is a gift and allows you to embrace God’s presence while in the fire. I am grateful for a God that doesn’t tell me the future, but instead guides me hand in hand every step of the way.

Brock is making slow progress, but progress none the less. His sodium levels have stabilized, praise Jesus. This week Brock was able to tell me he is at the hospital and even remembered our anniversary date! His sustained attention has been improving thanks to the medication and repetition. He can now retain information for five minutes. Brock asked me how long he has been at the hospital and when I told him a month, he was shocked and asked if it’s been hard for us. He doesn’t have a concept of time or what’s going on. He is blissfully unaware of the emotional pain the kids and I feel as we anxiously await his arrival home. I choose to believe this is a blessing in disguise. The doctor would like to start having no more one on one care during the day for him, and if this goes well then the next goal would be no more one on one assistants at night. This is one of the main three goals needed to be accomplished before discharge. Someone recently asked me what Brock’s days look like at the rehab hospital. They wake him up around seven and have him get ready for the day like he would at home. For example he has to do his hair, brush his teeth, etc. From eight until two thirty he has a combination of therapies including occupational, physical, and speech. I come in at three to spend the remainder of the day with him. Conversation can be difficult at times so we play games, watch TV and/or chat about random things. I anxiously await the day when I can tell him about this journey we are currently on, to share with him the raw, hard and ugly but also the beauty God has brought our way. I repeatedly tell Brock of the generosity poured out to us and it is a continual reminder to myself of how great God is. I never would have dreamed to be so loved and lifted up. You are all a part of the beauty in the grief, thank you.

How can you join us in prayer? Brock’s hormone levels to remain balanced, continued healing of his memory, and to be home by Christmas. Strength, peace and comfort for myself as I wear many hats and that I would also find favor with Brock’s providers. That God would give the kids words to express their feelings and turn their worry and fear into faith.