I am speechless. Utterly and completely speechless. Anyone who knows me will attest that me lacking for words is incredibly rare. Tears stream down my face as I sit staring at the thousands of posts, pictures, texts, emails, and prayers on behalf of Rebecca from all over the world. I struggled for days thinking about my post the night before this coveted yet terrifying surgery. I started writing about five different times – each page sitting with unfinished words. My mind kept flashing back to August 22, 2010. The day before Rebecca’s first pancreatic procedure…. It was imperative I come to terms with God. The Lord and I were not speaking since my Annabelle died and I felt I could not be false in saying “God is good” if Rebecca’s surgery turned out the way we hoped. My praising of this God would feel phony – I was too raw to be fake and I knew the Lord, along with the thousands following this story, deserved my sincerity - if nothing else. They were entitled to know where my faith stood, regardless of the next day’s outcome. So I was at a crossroads. I had to decide the nature of my relationship with God right then and there. My “come to Jesus” meeting was forced by my inability to be anything but naked. I needed the world to know I made a decision to follow my God without regard to my circumstance, or to reject my God because of the intense pain He continued to allow. My mind and emotions wanted to reject Him. It made more sense. He allowed this. He could have saved my baby from death, saved my daughter from pain, He could have kept my family from separation, He could have…. I knew what I was asking of myself. Make a forever decision – one way or the other. There was no room for “halfsies.” Give up full control and hand it to the Lord– knowing the pain I already and surely would endure, or move on without Him – never allowing Him to hurt me or my family again. Ann Voskamp wrote in her book, , “I either take the ‘what is it?’ manna with thanks, eat the mystery of the moment with trust, and am nourished another day – or refuse it… and die.” This was my crossroads: nourish or die. So I made my decision and wrote my own raw version of a creed: ****** My line in the sand was drawn since my relationship with God began. This line was not consciously drawn; in fact, I did not even realize its existence until this past week. The Lord and I have always been close. I cannot think of a time in my life where I did not feel His presence right beside me. The two of us have endured numerous, difficult trials together, and through it all, I could still praise Him. I knew in my heart that God truly, “works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to his purpose.” I knew I loved God, therefore, I knew He ultimately worked for my good. Being hospitalized 7 ½ weeks with a placental abruption was terrifying, but I held faith. Visiting the hospital 13 separate times in one year with Brian and my 2 children was exhausting, but I held faith. Losing Brian’s family members, one by one until there was only one living survivor,who was then diagnosed with stage 4 brain cancer was incomprehensible, but I still held faith. The list could go on and on but the outcome was still the same – I held to the faith that God worked for my good and though I did not necessarily understand the trials, I trusted God‘s bigger, unseen plan. The problem was, my strength in God was based on my own faulty perception. God and I had a deal– I would endure the trials that came my way while God acknowledged my stopping point. He knew where my line was drawn and subconsciously, I knew in my heart, He would never cross it. On August 2, 2010 my line in the sand was crossed. My one-way deal with God, shattered. On the way to the hospital that night, there was no doubt in my mind that Annabelle would live. Coming off the hardest summer of my family’s lives, with Rebecca still at home on a feeding tube, her future health completely unknown – it was a foregone conclusion that this baby we so wanted and loved would be saved. When I was told Annabelle would not make it, fear set in and my faith began to crumble. Everything changed in that moment. My “safety zone” with God was no longer safe. If this could happen in the midst of our greatest struggles, then anything was fair game. For the first time in my life, anxiety began to overwhelm me, to the point where panic attacks took control of my otherwise controlled self. The thought of living my life without my “safety zone” filled me with trepidation. I have spent weeks trying to figure out why a God I so love,could let this happen to my family at such a time? How could I go through Rebecca’s impending surgery without the foreknowledge that everything was going to be okay in the way I best saw fit? The only conclusion I came to was that I cannot live my life the way God intended with this suffocating fear. How do I return to the faith that God works for my good –even if that good is unseen by human eyes? I have to give up my line in the sand. I have to offer my entire life, every minute portion of it, to God’s control regardless of the outcome. Rebecca is in God’s hands tomorrow. No lines have been drawn, no deals made, I have given her to the Lord. Peace begins where panic once resided and calmness settles where anxiety once ruled. ***** I have lived a lifetime in the four years following this writing. Yet the words speak as true tonight as they did 24 pancreatic surgeries ago. I gained a peace that passes all understanding. I gave my other daughter to the Lord, fully knowing what that could mean and yet I experienced peace in handing her over. I knew the risks - I knew the potential for disaster. Yet, I also understood for the first time ever, that God did not need my permission to take someone I loved. He was going to do whatever it took to bring glory to His Kingdom and I had to choose to have faith in His sometimes misunderstood love, or live in a state of anger and bitterness while God’s plan continued to unfold with or without my faithfulness. So, on the night before Rebecca’s last pancreatic surgery – I would like to proclaim what these last years have shown me in abundance: God is good - ALL the time. God is good when Rebecca was diagnosed with an incurable disease. God is good when Rebecca was miraculously able to receive this transplant. God is good when Rebecca is in pain. God is good when Rebecca is feeling fantastic. And our great God will still be good regardless of the outcome of tomorrow’s procedure. His love is unchanging and ever-present. His plan is bigger and greater than my mind can conceive. I have hope and rest in that knowledge. So I will praise the Lord, not in manipulation that tomorrow will go the way I choose or the way I want, but I will praise Him for His goodness in standing beside me every step of this arduous journey. I will praise Him for showing me His amazing and wonderful love in the midst of suffering. I will praise Him for teaching me the true meaning of service from our surrounding unsung heroes. I will praise Him for providing a strength I never thought possible. And I will praise Him for blessing me with the honor of mothering Rebecca Elizabeth Taylor– my true unexpected miracle. Thank you, Lord. Love to each and every one of you, Christyn
Posted on: Tue, 11 Nov 2014 05:28:00 +0000
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