this post has been twirling in my mind for several weeks now (hence the huge gap between posts). i've been trying to get it just right and have finally decided that i just need to get it out and see what comes of it. also, i'm finally going to let the world, i.e. facebook, know that i'm blogging, so i wanted this to be a great post. pride, i know. but i'm letting go of it so i can simply stop thinking about this post.
recently i've been thinking about how i am actually grateful for the unknown. now those of you who know me well know that this is a very unlike me statement to make. and most of the time, i really hate the unknown. i want to know the plan. i want to know what's coming. i want to pretend that i'm prepared and ready for everything. i don't like the unknown.
but, as i've been looking back over this past year, i've come to discover how truly blessed i was by the unknown. when my daughter was diagnosed with epilepsy last march her entire future became this huge question mark. what did this diagnosis mean? what was causing the seizures? will she ever outgrow the seizures? will we ever find a medicine that will stop them? how will this affect her development? so, so, so many questions and NO answers. for 8 months the doctor could not answer any of these. and i, in the midst of it all, was hating the unknown.
despite my hatred of the unanswered questions i, for some reason, kept myself from researching the internet for possible answers. the Lord pressed it heavily upon my heart that i needed to stay away from the searching. and now, one year later, i am beginning to understand why.
about a month ago a friend told me about a college friend of her's who's child was exhibiting similar seizure activity to my daughters, but she never recognized it as seizures or took her child to the doctor to get it examined. sadly, the child ended up having a grand mal seizure that took her life. i cannot even write that without feeling overwhelmed with grief and sorrow. my friend, in her wisdom, did not share this story with me as it was happening last summer. had i heard this story last summer, i don't know if i would have been able to cope with that possibility in my daughter's life. a case of the good unknown.
several weeks ago i was browsing through the blog of a friend of a friend (read her post on May 9)- this family has a daughter that was born right around the same time as my daughter, and has been diagnosed with epilepsy, along with several other disabilities. her 2 year old is close to a 5 month old developmentally. i don't know if the seizures are the source of her delays and disabilities, but as i read i couldn't help but be grateful that i didn't know that my daughters seizures could have taken her down a much more difficult road. again, so glad i didn't know.
so, despite my continued desire to be in the know, i have learned, and continue to learn, that there is something precious and valuable in the unknown.
Showing posts with label childhood epilepsy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label childhood epilepsy. Show all posts
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Monday, April 4, 2011
a year's reflection, post #2
in the hope that i might get myself back on this blogging train i've decided to try and post multiple times this week. yesterday i gave a very brief introduction to what life looked like after my daughter was diagnosed with epilespy. today i want to expand on one facet of that journey: my faith walk with the Lord
having grown up in the church, with a personal relationship with the Lord from a very young age, i've always wondered what my faith would look like if it was ever truly tested. the day i learned that my daughter had epilepsy, my faith was thrown into the fire.
how do i begin to describe the desperation that flowed out of my heart and into my prayers. with all my heart i wanted the Lord to heal my daughter completely. like i said yesterday, i woke up every day hoping that it would be the day that He would heal her and take away her seizures. and every night i went to bed broken because the seizures remained. test one: can i believe that God is able to heal her, even when He doesn't?
as i earnestly prayed for her healing i came to realize that i had to completely release her whole life into the Lord's hands. i had always known this in my head, but all of the sudden this became a concious decision that i had to make. finding myself in a situation that i had zero control over, i found myself kneeling before the Lord and surrendering her life to Him. test two: can i believe that God IS love, and cannot operate outside of His love for me and my daughter, even in a situation riddled with pain and fear.
i found myself crying, almost daily. i so wanted to fix everything. i wanted to return to my plans and my purposes. and i came to realize that not only did i have to surrender my daughter's life into the Lord's hands, but i had to release my plans for her life as well. test three: can i believe that the Lord's plans for her life are better, far better, than mine? can i believe that He is truly soverign in her life? in my life?
while there were many, many other small but significant tests that i walked through, these three tests sum up all that i really wrestled with. if you stop and read those questions... no, not just read, but really ask yourself those questions, the answers are not so easy. it's easy to say that we believe God is all that He says He is. but when our life situations seem to contradict one of His attributes (e.g. my daughter is sick and yet He is the healer), this belief becomes a decision. and let me tell you, it's not always an easy decison to make.
several months after her initial diagnosis, i was reading the passage about the two builders. you know the story about the wise man who built his house upon the rock, and the foolish man who built his upon the sand (sing that sunday school song with me). as i was reading this the Holy Spirit spoke so loudly to my heart. i realized in that moment that i had, in fact, built my house upon the rock. the rains had come down in my life, and the floods had definitely risen. and yet my house stood firm. did i wrestle to truly believe that God was truly soverign and loving as i watched my daughter have seizure after seizure. yes. but i still chose to believe. i still chose to trust and pray through every fearful, tear filled moment.
i think that i will always wrestle to fully believe that God is ALL that He says He is, but i will not give up the wrestling match. and as much as i hated everything about my daughters seizures, i will always be grateful that it ushered me toward a more intimate and genuine relationship with the Lord.
having grown up in the church, with a personal relationship with the Lord from a very young age, i've always wondered what my faith would look like if it was ever truly tested. the day i learned that my daughter had epilepsy, my faith was thrown into the fire.
how do i begin to describe the desperation that flowed out of my heart and into my prayers. with all my heart i wanted the Lord to heal my daughter completely. like i said yesterday, i woke up every day hoping that it would be the day that He would heal her and take away her seizures. and every night i went to bed broken because the seizures remained. test one: can i believe that God is able to heal her, even when He doesn't?
as i earnestly prayed for her healing i came to realize that i had to completely release her whole life into the Lord's hands. i had always known this in my head, but all of the sudden this became a concious decision that i had to make. finding myself in a situation that i had zero control over, i found myself kneeling before the Lord and surrendering her life to Him. test two: can i believe that God IS love, and cannot operate outside of His love for me and my daughter, even in a situation riddled with pain and fear.
i found myself crying, almost daily. i so wanted to fix everything. i wanted to return to my plans and my purposes. and i came to realize that not only did i have to surrender my daughter's life into the Lord's hands, but i had to release my plans for her life as well. test three: can i believe that the Lord's plans for her life are better, far better, than mine? can i believe that He is truly soverign in her life? in my life?
while there were many, many other small but significant tests that i walked through, these three tests sum up all that i really wrestled with. if you stop and read those questions... no, not just read, but really ask yourself those questions, the answers are not so easy. it's easy to say that we believe God is all that He says He is. but when our life situations seem to contradict one of His attributes (e.g. my daughter is sick and yet He is the healer), this belief becomes a decision. and let me tell you, it's not always an easy decison to make.
several months after her initial diagnosis, i was reading the passage about the two builders. you know the story about the wise man who built his house upon the rock, and the foolish man who built his upon the sand (sing that sunday school song with me). as i was reading this the Holy Spirit spoke so loudly to my heart. i realized in that moment that i had, in fact, built my house upon the rock. the rains had come down in my life, and the floods had definitely risen. and yet my house stood firm. did i wrestle to truly believe that God was truly soverign and loving as i watched my daughter have seizure after seizure. yes. but i still chose to believe. i still chose to trust and pray through every fearful, tear filled moment.
i think that i will always wrestle to fully believe that God is ALL that He says He is, but i will not give up the wrestling match. and as much as i hated everything about my daughters seizures, i will always be grateful that it ushered me toward a more intimate and genuine relationship with the Lord.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
hi. i'm back. i know that my postings have been few. and extremely far between. let's just go ahead and skip over all that and start anew. again.
this post has been rehersed over and over again in my mind and yet still i'm not quite sure where to start or where it's going to end. this might have to take the form of several posts.
one year ago, on march 30, my husband and i found out that our daughter has epilepsy. after an EEG on march 4, and several weeks of waiting (because the doctors failed to tell us the results of the test were in) our suspicions of seizures were confirmed. and my heart was broken.
sitting there in that cold, sterile doctor's office i felt broken. so broken. and afraid. and confused. and weak. and, most of all, helpless.
for the first time in my life i was in the middle of a situation that i could do NOTHING to control. my daughter had seizures. 40-50 seizures a day at the height of it all. and all i could do was watch. and cry. and pray. for 29 years, every event, every situation, every circumstance i encountered, i had some semblance of control. i was able to choose, or decide or work to change or alter whatever needed altering or changing. but with my daughter's epilepsy i was helpless. and i hated it.
the feeling of helplessness, for me, was just a short jump from dispair, hoplessness, and fear. every morning i woke up hoping, desperately hoping, that it would be the day that we didn't see a seizure. and every night i went to bed so broken and discouraged by the multitude of seizures that she was still having.
i found myself broken before the Lord, needing Him in a way that i have NEVER needed Him before. the fact that i was helpless to do anything to fix my daughter brought me to a deeper dependence than i have ever known.... but i think i want to save my reflections on this aspect for another post.
it is slightly surreal to think that one year ago i had just been tossed into this sea of darkness with no idea of what my daughter's future might hold with her diagnosis of epilepsy. it has been a year that i have no desire to ever repeat. but i can honestly say that i wouldn't undo the year either.
i think i'll leave this post a little open ended... for now. no conclusion per se, just a promise to write and reflect more on this past year soon.
this post has been rehersed over and over again in my mind and yet still i'm not quite sure where to start or where it's going to end. this might have to take the form of several posts.
one year ago, on march 30, my husband and i found out that our daughter has epilepsy. after an EEG on march 4, and several weeks of waiting (because the doctors failed to tell us the results of the test were in) our suspicions of seizures were confirmed. and my heart was broken.
sitting there in that cold, sterile doctor's office i felt broken. so broken. and afraid. and confused. and weak. and, most of all, helpless.
for the first time in my life i was in the middle of a situation that i could do NOTHING to control. my daughter had seizures. 40-50 seizures a day at the height of it all. and all i could do was watch. and cry. and pray. for 29 years, every event, every situation, every circumstance i encountered, i had some semblance of control. i was able to choose, or decide or work to change or alter whatever needed altering or changing. but with my daughter's epilepsy i was helpless. and i hated it.
the feeling of helplessness, for me, was just a short jump from dispair, hoplessness, and fear. every morning i woke up hoping, desperately hoping, that it would be the day that we didn't see a seizure. and every night i went to bed so broken and discouraged by the multitude of seizures that she was still having.
i found myself broken before the Lord, needing Him in a way that i have NEVER needed Him before. the fact that i was helpless to do anything to fix my daughter brought me to a deeper dependence than i have ever known.... but i think i want to save my reflections on this aspect for another post.
it is slightly surreal to think that one year ago i had just been tossed into this sea of darkness with no idea of what my daughter's future might hold with her diagnosis of epilepsy. it has been a year that i have no desire to ever repeat. but i can honestly say that i wouldn't undo the year either.
i think i'll leave this post a little open ended... for now. no conclusion per se, just a promise to write and reflect more on this past year soon.
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