I didn’t have any gifts to give. No tree, no outside lights, not even a decorated wreath hung on my front door. My kids were going to be disappointed. This Christmas certainly wouldn’t be as I expected.
Miles away from home and a few weeks before Christmas, I quietly reflected on everything we had experienced in the last few days. Out of nowhere, our two-year-old daughter, Gracie, had been diagnosed with a rare form of eye cancer. Surgery followed by chemotherapy would be needed to save her life. Duke Children’s Hospital, three hours from our home, separated us from our two other small children who were staying with grandparents. The miles also drug us further away from the life we once referred to as normal. Overwhelmed with grief, I felt helpless. Nothing I could do would change this situation.
As I looked out the window and watched the snowfall, my thoughts strangely enough turned to Mary, the mother of Jesus. I know her life was not as she expected. Her journey took her far from home, alone with her fiancé, giving birth in less than acceptable accommodations. I wondered if she, like me, looked at her most precious child and felt overwhelmed and ill-equipped to protect Him from His most certain sufferings. Did she questions God’s plan and doubt His protection, or did she sense His presence and trust His provision? Did she feel forgotten? Did she feel like me?
Suddenly I became angry. “God, where are you in all of this? Are you paying attention? My child is suffering! My walk with you is not supposed to be this way.”
Not knowing what else to do, I flipped through the pages of my bible. My heart was desperately seeking to hear from the God whom I had trusted my entire life. My mind was panicking; fearing the dependability I longed for wouldn’t come. What if my God could not be trusted?
One by one I read from the scriptures. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, lean not on your own understanding,” were the words I read in Proverbs. “I know the plans I have for you, declared the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a future and a hope,” cried out to me from Jeremiah. The book of John reminded me of God’s peace, not the peace that comes from understanding, but comes when we have trust in an unfailing Christ.
“Do you know what is going on here God,” I cried out to him. “My child is suffering. How are these promises suppose to give me comfort?”
I turned to the book of Luke to read about Mary. How did the most loving mother respond when presented with her unforeseen? Clearly, not as I would have imagined. When the angel Gabriel appeared out of nowhere, Mary didn’t run, doubt, scream, or argue. Instead, she listened. She paid attention as the angel explained to her the odd things that were about to happen. Pregnant, but a virgin. Mother, of the Son of God. Elizabeth, aged and barren, with child.
“How can this be?” asked Mary. The angel responded, “Nothing is impossible with God.” Mary’s next words amazed me. The women who would suffer public ridicule and would watch her child suffer like no other said the following: “I am the Lord’s servant, May it be to me as you have said.
Mary believed. The one who would be present at Jesus’ birth and present at His death believed. Mary trusted God. She didn’t know the plan, but followed Him anyway. Obediently, she gave all she had to give, and with assurance, she relied on God to take care of the rest.
Could I be anything like Mary? Trusting when I do not understand and believing in what I can not see. Could I give my baby over God and say may it be to me as you have said?
The answer to these questions did not come easily or quickly. Trusting proved challenging the day my daughter was to have surgery. Removing the cancer meant removing our daughter’s left eye. Humbly, my husband and I pleaded for healing and lovingly God chose another way.
God’s way meant my daughter was still sick. God’s way meant months of chemotherapy. His way would not be painless. Sadly, I watched my husband hold our daughter as the nurse attempted to explain chemotherapy. Gracie, too young to understand, and too scared to trust refused to go with the nurse. My husband held her close desperately wishing he could take away her pain. She continued to resist until she looked into her daddy’s eyes and saw that is was okay. Gracie knew the situation could be trusted because her daddy could be trusted. She didn’t understand, but she knew to lean on the one who did.
This holiday season my family was led to places we never expected and would receive gifts we never knew to ask for. While waiting to find out if the cancer had spread, we saturated ourselves in God’s word. While waiting in the many waiting rooms, we bowed our heads and asked the One who created her to save her. It was in the waiting we received the gift of peace.
This holiday season my family was led to places we never expected and would receive gifts we never knew to ask for. While waiting to find out if the cancer had spread, we saturated ourselves in God’s word. While waiting in the many waiting rooms, we bowed our heads and asked the One who created her to save her. It was in the waiting we received the gift of peace.
We asked for healing and God asked us to trust. We asked for answers and He asked us to believe. We yearned for strength and He gave us the ability to endure. Instead of taking away our pain, He gave us the gift of His presence.
Our Christmas has returned to normal and our precious daughter has returned to health, but our hearts will never be the same. Because of His faithfulness, I can say now with assurance, I am the Lord’s servant, May it be to me as you have said.
Have a blessed Christmas Soul Sisters. May you rest in His peace and promises.
Have a blessed Christmas Soul Sisters. May you rest in His peace and promises.
