This was originally posted February of 2017
4.1
Just enough.
Barely.
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.
#RulerofHope
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