On Pain and Brokenness... PS - We're Home!

It's true, friends.  We are home.  Will was gaining weight, eating well, and responding well to his anti-seizure meds, so they discharged us out of the NICU, praise the Lord.  I know the NICU serves it purpose, but I really, really hated that place.

We still may have a long road ahead of us with doctor appointments, medications and therapies, but for now, we need to be at home, try to adjust to "normal" life and sort of just "see what happens" developmentally for our little buddy.  We are trusting the Lord for full restoration in the dead/stroke areas of his brain, continued healing for the bleeding in his brain, and continued stability with his seizures.

Though we are thankful for the NICU and the wisdom and care they offered to us, we are SO SO SO thankful to be home.  We will never forget our experiences there...

When you hear that YOUR baby is being admitted into the NICU, life seems to stop.  You're instantly filled with fear, anxiety, more questions than can be answered, and honestly, I just felt like throwing up.  It's awful.  We felt lost, alone, and helpless - and like our entire world was falling apart.  

A few days after the intial shock, as I went to Will's room to visit him, the Lord seemed to speak to my heart in highlighting of all the other rooms I had been passing in walking down the NICU hall.  I bet I had passed at least 20 of them.  Each room represented a story like ours - some much worse.  Each room represented a family who was grieving, feeling alone, and maybe feeling desperately hopeless.  Each room represented a mom and dad whose hearts were breaking, who had really important and pressing questions that couldn't be answered, and who were bone-tired and weary.

A few of the nights, I stayed in Will's NICU room on the couch so I could feed him consistently.  Right outside our window was the landing pad of the Medevac Helicopters.  It seemed a new helicopter was landing every half hour or so.  Each helicopter represented another emergency, another sleepless night, another family ripped apart, another widow, another...

Though we are grieving Will's sad news, I am finding myself grieving the overall realization that there is more pain and brokenness in the world than I know what to do with.  

Sure - before Will was born, I knew there were starving children in Africa and that brokenness existed in the world in general, but I had never come so close to the sheer pain and stinging-sort-of-nauseous feeling that comes when you see pain up close and personal...and when you can't do anything about it.  You just can't fix it.

There is something sick and wrong about a tiny, cute little baby being born into the world with strokes and seizures.  There is something raw about such terrible things happening to such innocent people around the world.  I hate it.

Though the pain IS raw, I feel like I'm living in more reality these days.  After all, isn't it pretty delusional to live life in a place of constant hearts and flowers and happy endings?  Though it sort of seems weird to say it out loud (or write it), maybe I am becoming more sane, more grounded and having better perspective these days.

Don't hear me wrong - this isn't a message of hopelessness, and I don't want to give the enemy more credit than he deserves.  Yes, sin entered the world and screwed a lot of things up - I am coming to grips with the depth and weight of this more and more.  

BUT, in the face of such darkness and filth, hope seems so much more beautiful, joy seems so much more powerful, and God's grace seems so much more...well...gracious and merciful.  

In this dark, dark world, how much more do we need His mercy?  His kindness?  His joy?  His provision?  His faithfulness?  We are leaning into Him now, more than ever.

I am praising God for the victory He has already won against sin and death and pain.  I am praising God for the victory He is actively winning day by day - right in front of my eyes - as our little family continues to press on in the face of trial.  

I hate the pain and brokenness I am suddenly aware of...if this earthly stuff is all life's about, then I don't want it.  I will fall into a heap of depression and hopelessness.  But, praise God, this world is not my home and my hope is in Jesus making all things new.

Revelation 22:20 - He who testifies to these things says, "Yes, I am coming soon."  Amen!  Come, Lord Jesus!

PS - Though we are home, we are not accepting visitors at this time.  Thanks for your patience.  We really need some sleep, peace and quiet in adjusting to so much!  We SO appreciate your prayers and words of encouragement, and we look forward to seeing you all when things settle down a bit for us!