The Sacrifice of Love

There were times this past year when I felt crazy.  I was doing the same thing all the time every day and it was more than I could do.  I was dizzy from walking in circles in my tiny condo as I fetched this or that to care for Annika and to maintain her feeding tube.  Ever changing was her feeding schedule, profuse was her vomit, and mysterious were the reasons for her decision to stop eating.  So many questions and changes.  Stuff like this can drive a person mad.  I've heard of it.  And it could have been.  Really.

But I know that God, in His grace, surrounded us with an amazing network of supporting friends and family.  I remember so many meals brought to us-or hearing about them when I was away-for 2 1/2 solid months!  My Mom came twice and stayed long when we were desperate for help.  My Mom-in-Law jumped in and took the 3 for one night each week for 4-5 months so they could get attention and excitement when I could give them little.  My Lovely Neighbor brought lots and lots of cookies, and dinners, and took the kids on a few occasions.  One Dearest One did Costco runs when our fridge was bare and I couldn't get there.  Another Sweet Family cooked extra so they could store up food in their freezer and bring us an occasional cooler full of emergency dinners.  And yet another Kind Friend took me away for the evening and treated me to a massage.  And we've received so many surprises: $ for dinner, a devotional book on suffering, encouraging notes and verses and texts and facebook comments, more $ for more dinners, and a gigantic surprise Costco gift card so that-now that I can go there myself- we can have pizza every night for the next year and a half.  We were given $ for a house cleaner and more $ for a house cleaner and more $ for whatever so I called the house cleaner.  $ from my Grandma to help defer the costs of doctor co-pays and gas to get there was a huge blessing.

People responded in overwhelming ways when Annika first was diagnosed.  The facebook posts were through the roof, and that was partly what knocked into my head the gravity of the situation.  We didn't get out much, but when we did there were smiles and hugs and pats on the back and listening ears.  And there were phone calls galore.

And at the moment when I really did start to lose my mind, my Dearest Love (who is the strongest of the Strong) commanded that I should GO and have an entire night of quietness and solitude and no Annika with her beeping machine.  That night saved a lot in me.  It allowed me to pull my thoughts together, to lay my complaints before God, and to sit - just sit -as He spoke to my heart.  A healing balm soothed my soul as I read my Bible and released my anger.

I write this because I want to remember.  I want to remember how it felt to be loved and how to love well.  Love doesn't just hope and aspire but it takes action and does.  Love is not always easy.  To Love is to look outward, not inward.  How many hours were spent making and driving food to my family?  How many sacrifices were made to give us money in our darkest hour?  How many thoughts were thought and put into action?

Suffering and the Journey

John 15:1-4 “I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener.  He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful.  You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you.  Remain in me, and I will remain in you.  No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine.  Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.”

Suffering.  It’s everywhere.  You turn on the news and most of what you hear involves suffering.  Even when we don’t suffer, we think we do, as my 7 year old demonstrated recently in his loud lament that he would never receive a hard-boiled egg-that he would be forgotten and hungry-just because he was third in line.  Or when that guy won’t let us over on the freeway and we miss our exit.  Or when we turn our back and the dog jumps up and eats our lunch.  And that head-cold that won’t go away, the second one this year!  We bemoan and groan and complain about unfair circumstances in all our selfish glory.  Why do we suffer so?!  And then real suffering embraces us, kisses us on the cheek, when we least expect it.  It’s the trademark of this fallen world.  Oh, then!  How we laugh at the pettiness of yesterday and it doesn’t matter anymore if the line is long or the hair dye is the wrong color.  A new perspective settles in.  But we can’t help asking - Why???

I can’t say that I’m a suffering expert – no.  Far from it.  But I’ve had my days, even seasons.   Loss.  Death.  Sudden and unexpected.  Why??  Test results that were positive when I’d hoped for negative.  Suddenly, in a moment, the future stripped away.  Changed.  Unexpected.  For all of us.  You really would, God?  Why??  When we’d already lost so much that month…our sleep, our health, both of our cars, one because of an accident - I clung to the comfort that our baby, still tiny and forming, my God of mercy would not take.  But He did.  Why??  Changed.  Unexpected.

In November of 2012, just before our smallest one arrived, I mused and wondered aloud to James - what we would do, how it would be, if our baby were to have circumstances that would keep him or her in the hospital for an extended amount of time?  But it was a vision, a wonderment that would not, could not happen to us.  We were too normal - stuff like that didn’t happen to us.  Besides, James was on the cusp of graduating from seminary and we were going to finally go and to serve overseas after years of prayer and hope.   I’d heard the stories - those “missions-stopping circumstances” ones, but those were not us.  We were on the “missions-going” track and it was a straight line and the whistle was about to blow!  Finally!  Oh!  The anticipation!

And then it happened.

That night in March when they looked at my tiny Annika in the ER and so casually talked to her in their baby voices, "You're too little and too cute to have CHF, aren't you?"  CHF.  CHF, what?  Congestive Heart Failure?!  No one had said those words to us.  But they kept on saying it in passing as if it were a hangnail.  Oh, the throat constricting panic as I clung to her less than 9 pound body.  The agony as we waited in the room, minutes snail-pacing by as we waited, waited for the diagnosis behind her swollen heart – that discovery only hours old.  I crumbled, outwardly and inwardly, but she showed her two and a half month old strength as I stood her on my knees and her face shone with happy pride.  My broken heart broke more and tears streamed down my face as our eyes locked and I tried to hold a smile.  Could it be so?  Could this child, who looked so like the other three and who beamed with joy, could she really have a failing heart?  Would it fail completely?  And when?  And how - how could we bear it.  How could I?  How could she?    

It was a new place for me.  Changed.  Unexpected.  But it was real.  Happening.  It wasn't going away.  From what I’d read, there was little good news when it came to a swollen heart.  The diagnosis possibilities started at serious and ended at terminal.  The ultrasound technician finally arrived.  And then, I couldn’t stay, didn’t want to hear, wanted a few more ignorant minutes –those last unknowing moments.  Because knowing could be worse!  The babe slept on the bed in peace and James calmly sat, so I slipped away to the bathroom to stretch my arms high and to make my Hannah plea-

"She is Yours!  You created her.  You know the number of her days.  But - Oh God!  Let them be many with me!  I want her!  Dear God, let me keep her longer!!!  She-this precious gift-please let me keep her!  You gave her, please don't take her away.  I cannot imagine you taking her, but I know that you could, that you might, because I remember before, when you did.  I promise – God - I will raise this baby to know you and your Word, Lord.  God?!  Please say yes.  She is Yours, God, but I pray – as I’ve never prayed - that Your will would be to grant me the gift of raising this little life."

And in his grace, he quickly answered, “Yes.”  At least, the diagnosis was hopeful.  As I walked into the room, James said, “It’s good, Chrissy.  It’s good.”  For where we were, it was.  A Ventricular Septal Defect, or VSD, is a hole in the heart and one of the most common heart conditions to be had and, many times, these holes will close on their own without intervention.  Hallelujah!   

Annika was admitted immediately to the hospital.

And thus began our unexpected, unplanned journey into the world of medications and syringes and stethoscopes and doctors and therapists and hospitals and procedures and decisions and tubes and bottles and machines and poles and noises and scheduling and nausea and vomit and more laundry than ever!  Ventricular Septal Defect, Coarctation of the Aorta, Bicuspid Aortic Valve, mitral valve stenosis, echocardiogram, ekg, angioplasty, heart catheterization, NG tube, G tube, electrolytes, BNP, nissen fundoplication, reflux, bolus, vent, 30kcal, prevacid, erythromycin, and enalapril.  It’s a whole new language, and before this year, I spoke it not, but after an involuntary crash course in nursing I can now catch and measure vomit, change two different types of feeding tubes, mix formula in four different concentrations, listen for stomach fluid with a stethoscope, keep track of and dispense 8 doses of medication each day (down from 11), and am learning the ins and outs of feeding tube maintenance and methods.  I am learning how to teach a baby to eat who won’t eat.  If I have a question for the Surgeon or her GI Doctor, I can text them any time.  A new life.

And it’s been so running, running busy.  A fast-paced marathon.  The end of February marked the starting line, and in only three months’ time, we went from failure to thrive, enlarged heart, five nights in the hospital – another heart discovery and low sodium levels led to 15 more nights in the hospital where she had a heart catheterization and angioplasty.  She retained too much fluid, was thrown into severe heart failure, had an NG tube placed and all the while gagged, and vomited, and refused the forced bottle, while I longed to nurse her, but was not allowed.  Five more nights in the hospital gave us surgery resulting in a G-tube and a procedure to stop her reflux.  And then she stopped eating.  Completely refused.  That was the end of May.

I can barely describe the raw emotion of all of this.  The ever empathetic sadness of watching her suffer through the needles poking almost every day – watching as different nurses struggle for over two hours to find her tiny vein for an IV, watching as they wheel her away for surgery, watching as she awakens from the anesthetic, watching when she wants to nurse and is not allowed, watching when I accidently bump her raw tube site and she screams and through all of it she panic looks into my eyes with questions and pain.  Sadness, as she heaves and gags and chokes every day and I comfort her with kisses and hugs and a vomit tray but I cannot take it away.  Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.  Little ones to Him belong, they are weak but He is strong – more meaning than ever before.  The losses sapped at my heart as I watched my supposed healthy baby be torn from my arms and replaced with a sick one, ever connected to cords.  Even greater was the loss when I was forced to wean her at 3 ½ months because she needed more calories.  And I yearned after my other three kids.  I did all I could for them, but I felt as though I only glanced at them as through a window because there was little time to spend with them as I rushed by.

All of this in a walking state of sleep.  In the hospital, the nurses came and went.  Not me.  I had to be “on” all the time.  Never have I known such weariness.

And then I’m home.  A new life.  A changed life.  Yet another problem found with her heart, the timeframe ever lengthening before she will be okay.  Still tired and going, always going.

And I didn’t have much time to ask before, but here we are, God.  Why??

The ministry of before - that life I can barely remember full of Missions Board, MIT, Bible Study, Casa Teresa – Gone.  And the future we anticipated, serving in overseas missions.  Gone in the foreseeable future.  

Why??  Wasn’t I doing it for You?  And I wait for some explanation, some sign of goodness.  Why?  WHY?  I’m stuck.  Stuck in the why’s.  Waiting.  The trouble is:  the answer may not come.  And I sit there.  And nothing changes and the suffering continues as my heart wilts.  And my why’s turn to rancid bitterness at the unfairness of being dealt this lot with no explanation. I spiral down each step.  The stench!  My sin.  It’s bigger than ever.  And the bitterness turns to anger as I fume and shake my fists at the God who saw it all and knew from the beginning and still allowed it to happen!

And now the problem with my sin.  As my anger grows my patience thins to nothing I watch the anger multiply in those little ones around me.  They begin to kick and rebel and cry out at me as never before.  My own heart reflected back and magnified times three.  But I’m so raw.  How do I help them?  How can I show them?  It’s a dark place.  I can’t.  I can’t.  I can’t.

Suddenly, there’s a nakedness to it all.  I’m standing there and they’re all needing me desperately, reaching out, grabbing me and I’m standing apart reaching up and crying out louder still to God because I need to be filled and I’ve given everything that I have.  Clenched fists open wide in surrender.  All that I was, is no more.  All that I thought would be, cannot.  I’m alone.  Right now.  Right here.  I am stripped of all pretense of security.  All I held to, apart from the God I angered at, either holds me in bondage or leads to nothing, and so I let go.  Strength…I have none.  And I give up.  I’m left with only myself and God.  And, though I wonder at and question Him, I will not give up my God!

A whispering in my ear, for I’m ready to hear those words hidden in my heart:

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."  2 Cor. 12:9   

“He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.  Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.  They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”  

Isaiah 40:29-31

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.”  Proverbs 3:5-6

“Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.”  Psalm 46:10

“Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.”  Psalm 27:14

It’s time to embrace what God has for me and to stop asking “why.” It’s time to trust.

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of

many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith

develops perseverance.  Perseverance must finish its work so that

you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”  

James 1:2-4

“And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.  Not only so, but

we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.  And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.”  Romans 5:2b-5

My questions, bitterness and anger dissipate as I confess my sin and He throws it as far as the east is from the west.  “My sin, oh the joy of this glorious thought, my sin not in part, but in whole, is nailed to the cross and I bear it no more, praise the Lord, praise the Lord, Oh my soul!”  I run up and away from those steps of sin and approach the upward stairway of perseverance, character and hope.  And I remember!  Out of the darkness, I remember His past goodness and His faithfulness.  I embrace Him with thankfulness because He has lifted up my discouraged head.  The suffering remains, but I’m ready to stand the test with joy, eager to receive the crown of life.  The Doctors and nurses – my hope is not in them – On Christ the Solid Rock I stand!  He can.  He can.  He can.  And He will.  Why did I wait?  Wait on the Lord, yes, but wait for His goodness in hope, not for an explanation.  Who am I to question the maker of the Universe?  Who is this boxed up, commandable God?  No God at all!

Job 9:2b-14 “But how can a mortal be righteous before God?  Though one wished to dispute with him, he could not answer him one time out of a thousand.  His wisdom is profound, his power is vast.  Who has resisted him and come out unscathed?  He moves mountains without their knowing it and overturns them in his anger.  He shakes the earth from its place and makes its pillars tremble.  He speaks to the sun and it does not shine; he seals off the light of the stars.  He alone stretches out the heavens and treads on the waves of the sea.  He is the Maker of the Bear and Orion, the Pleiades and the constellations of the south.  He performs wonders that cannot be fathomed, miracles that cannot be counted.  When he passes me, I cannot see him; when he goes by, I cannot perceive him.  If he snatches away, who can stop him?  

Who can say to him, ‘What are you doing?’  God does not

restrain his anger; even the cohorts of Rahab cowered at his feet.

How then can I dispute with him?  How can I find words to

argue with him?”

And, in spite of my resistance, He embraces me and woos me and whispers words of Love:

Jeremiah 29:11-14a  

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.  Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you.  You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.  I will be found by you.”

When I seek Him with all of my heart!  God is not a half-way God, or a God of conditions.  He is the Loving, omniscient Creator who works through it all for His good purposes.  In the beginning, my faith in God’s healing power was so, so mustard seed small and riddled with doubt.  But now, after watching all the trial and errors made by man, I see with stark clarity that we are mere tinkerers with the wonders of His creation.  He is the great physician.  I trust Him more than ever.  As I have grown smaller, He has shown Himself greater.  Nothing can stand in the way of His will.  If He still wants us to go serve Him overseas, healing Annika is nothing to Him.  He will do it.  Also, I’ve wondered why He redirected our path, and then I remember that He didn’t.  I only thought He did.   

The path I’m on is exactly the path He destined me to walk.  There’s a peace in that knowledge and utter trust.  I love how Joni Eareckson Tada puts it when she says, “As my friend and mentor, Steve Estes, once told me, ‘Satan may power the ship of evil, but God steers it to serve his own ends and purposes…God permits what he hates to accomplish what he loves.’  I can smile knowing God is accomplishing what he loves in my life-Christ in me, the hope of Glory.  And this is no Plan B for my life, but his good and loving Plan A.”

Psalm 77 beautifully speaks to suffering.  It echoes my heart.

“I cried out to God for help; I cried out to God to hear me. When I was in distress, I sought the Lord; at night I stretched out untiring hands, and I would not be comforted. I remembered you, God, and I groaned; I meditated, and my spirit grew faint. You kept my eyes from closing; I was too troubled to speak. I thought about the former days, the years of long ago;   I remembered my songs in the night. My heart meditated and my spirit asked: ‘Will the Lord reject forever?  Will he never show his favor again?  Has his unfailing love vanished forever?  Has his promise failed for all time?   Has God forgotten to be merciful? Has he in anger withheld his compassion?’  Then I thought, ‘To this I will appeal: the years when the Most High stretched out his right hand. I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago.  I will consider all your works and meditate on all your mighty deeds.’  Your ways, God, are holy. What god is as great as our God?  You are the God who performs miracles; you display your power among the peoples.  With your mighty arm you redeemed your people, the descendants of Jacob and Joseph.  The waters saw you, God, the waters saw you and writhed; the very depths were convulsed.  The clouds poured down water, the heavens resounded with thunder; your arrows flashed back and forth.  Your thunder was heard in the whirlwind, your lightning lit up the world; the earth trembled and quaked. Your path led through the sea, your way through the mighty waters, though your footprints were not seen. You led your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron.”

Sometimes God’s path and His way leads right through the mighty, raging waters.  Sometimes we don’t see His footsteps.  But we have His Word to guide us and to cling to and the hope and assurance of a heavenly perfection and a future without sin.  And we are changed.  Unexpectedly.  Through the bittersweet beauty of dying to self.

Oswald Chambers knew something of suffering and he cuts to the core when he says, “The first thing God does with us is to get us based on rugged Reality until we do not care what becomes of us individually as long as He gets His way for the purpose of His Redemption.  Why shouldn’t we go through heartbreaks?  Through those doorways God is opening up ways of fellowship with His Son.  Most of us fall and collapse at the first grip of pain; we sit down on the threshold of God’s purpose and die away of self-pity, and all so-called Christian sympathy will aid us to our death bed.  But God will not.  He comes with the grip of the pierced hand of His Son, and says – ‘Enter into fellowship with Me; arise and shine.’  If through a broken heart God can bring His purposes to pass in the world, than thank Him for breaking your heart.”

Perhaps it's time to embrace the suffering that comes my way.  Maybe, even, to kiss it back.

“Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power.  Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes.  For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.”  

Eph  6:10-13