This was originally posted February of 2017
Normal is 5-15.
At this moment, Landrey's white blood count is 4.1. I'm relatively happy. She's fighting flu, strep and an ear infection all at once. Just half of these things sent her fighting for her life one year ago.
My timehop has been reminding me daily of statuses that sounded more like an SOS from a deserted island, petitioning everyone to stand in the gap. One year ago, her cardiologist cleared her schedule and came to a hospital she doesn't round on and brought me lunch in the CVICU to check on me. That's when you know. It's not good.
Today was tough.
Somehow she's never had a seizure during blood draws until today. They were trying to get it in her vein and the seizure made the needle rip while they were inserting it. It happened two times in a row. They asked me if I wanted them to stop. I said, "Well of course I do. Except we can't, if her platelets are too low, she will need a blood transfusion."
Landrey just whined. Earlier she didn't flinch when they administered a rocephin shot. Those are painful. Ask any nurse. "Oh my God, I've never seen a kid not cry during something like this," the nurse says. She then makes eye contact and says, "I have three kids. This isn't fair."
It's not. Her life never will be.
"Do they know if she will start talking or potty training? Will you be taking care of her..." She realized she was asking a perfect stranger the toughest questions you can ask. She stopped. So I finished it for her with a forgiving smile "forever?"
"No one knows. They don't know why it ever happened or what she will accomplish," I answer.
"But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me." (2 Cor. 12:9)
I repeat this to myself sometimes 40 times per day. Sufficient. How many of you feel like God is only giving you sufficient grace in something. Just enough. I don't know maybe 4.1 on a scale of 5-15. It keeps you out of a Children's hospital, but not exactly what you were wanting.
Do you know that blood work numbers change constantly as your body heals? Today its 4.1. Probably it will stay that way for a while. Or will it? Will we choose to focus on what's wrong instead of what's right. This time last year, Landrey wasn't walking. She now walks.
You're in a 4.1 situation. You feel God doesn't see you. Maybe you're in the middle. When God told Joseph that he would be a leader and his family was going to bow down to him, he didn't mention that before that happened, that same family would throw him into a pit to try to kill him. Or when Potiphar's wife would have him thrown into a prison for a crime he didn't commit. God left out warning him about that middle part. Did the promise change? Did Joseph change? The blood work of his situation would probably have read below normal. Probably not a great chance of being healthy. He didn't look like he was on the fast track to greatness.
Sometimes, I can't see it. Honestly, I can't. I wish I could report perfect faith. I can envision my other two children being so successful that someone writes stories on their accomplishments. It's easy to see myself at 72-years-old with my sweet 40-year-old non-verbal Landrey sitting next to me having a seizure. Even writing this makes me tear up. It's true. That's what's easy to believe.
Or maybe we are in the middle. Maybe God's not done. Maybe it's just getting cranked up.
"My faith is in things unseen
Bringing life where it has not been
Speaking things that are not
As if they were
I am alive in You"
(All things new-Hillsong Worship)
This month the world shines light on hearts. On February 14th, it is Congenital Heart Defect Awareness day. Landrey was born with a broken heart to DAILY remind us of the condition of ours.
Don't lose heart. You're in the middle.
God is real. Landrey is proof.