Even if the healing doesn’t come

Since I last posted, we have gone to the neurologist who absolutely believes Clark has a neurological diagnosis. Actually, that was one of the first things she said. She then told us his genetic screening came bank normal 🙌🏻 BUT that it didn’t test for everything. And she had some very specific syndromes she wanted to test for. And the results from those tests won’t be back for–you guessed it–at least 2 weeks which puts it during the first week of January. She also told us that the MRI we were so excited about wasn’t normal “per se” and would require follow up for years. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.

What does any of this mean? Believe me, I’ve been shaking on the gates of heaven asking for answers day in and day out (I don’t get a lot of sleep with a newborn). And I still don’t know what’s going to happen. It’s basically just more uncertainty, and when I first found out, I didn’t think I could take anymore. I haven’t even had the courage to update my blog. Maybe because I felt ashamed in previously proclaiming Clark’s having been healed only to be told “No. probably not.” Maybe I didn’t want to bargain with God anymore. There’s no sense in that, anyway. But I’ve had some time to digest the information, and I’ve come to several conclusions.

First of all, it’s not about me.

As much as I write about my thoughts and feelings, it’s really not about me. As much as the most selfish part of me wants to proclaim, “Why me?! This isn’t what I deserve. I’ve had my struggles, I’ve served my time!,” my whole purpose in this life isn’t to “get what I deserve.” It is to bring glory to Jesus. If I can accomplish even a fraction of that through this journey, then it will be worth it. Hard. But worth it.

I keep thinking about how this scenario has dragged on and on. No answers. Bad news. No answers. Worse news. Better news? Nope. Bad news again. And I’ve found myself holding my breath, clenching my jaw, crying alone in the bathtub just wondering when it will all end, so that I can be happy again. Today I had a small revelation–what if the point isn’t to grit my teeth and just survive? I mean, I have been. I’ve soldiered on, and kept living, kept working, kept schooling, kept momming, kept going. But what if that isn’t the point? What if it’s not how much I can take and survive, but how much I can take while I thrive? While I actively and intentionally choose joy? While I look at my son with awe and wonder instead of fear or anxiety because, “it shouldn’t be this way?”

This Christmas, I’ve been especially thankful for a different baby boy. The one who is King, who is Sovereign. The baby who freely gives forgiveness, healing, and hope of a life everlasting. I’ve kind of always wondered if He was still all that great when your life takes some craptastic turns. I can tell you in my experience He is. He is unchanged by our changing circumstances and attitudes. He is always good.

I still pray for healing over Clark, (oh do I), but I know that it may not be what God has chosen for his life. The importance of His plans outweigh mine and make Him no less good.

17 “If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, O King. 18 But even if he does not, we want you to know, O King, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.” Daniel 3:17-18

Even if God doesn’t heal Clark, and the tests for syndrome(s) come back positive, and he has struggles all of his life, Jesus isn’t any less good.

So in light of all this news, which is disappointing in so many ways, I want you to know that I’m choosing joy. I’m choosing Christ because He’s all that makes sense in our ever-changing and uncertain journey. I’m choosing the joy of late night snuggles, and the refusal to constantly google syndromes. I’m choosing to rejoice in my endless blessings. I’m choosing to believe that God will equip me to handle whatever comes our way. And I want you to as well.

“Through it all, through it all, my eyes are on You, and it is well with me.” -Bethel Music

One thought on “Even if the healing doesn’t come”

  1. Becca, keeping you and your family in my thoughts and prayers . Love you
    You are an amazing young mother and an inspiration to many of us!
    Rita

    Like

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