The good news: my daughter has a big heart full of love for family, friends, and Rapunzel. The bad news: my daughter has a big heart, literally. Lily is a congenital heart disease patient. She was born with four heart defects and underwent open heart surgery at eight days old. Today Lily is almost two years old and enjoys running, dancing, and playing with babies and puppies. By all outward appearances, she looks and acts like your average toddler. That is why when we visited the cardiologist yesterday we were discouraged to hear that Lily's heart is not as healthy as it may seem. We spent most of our visit corralling the little bundle of energy and bribing her with bubbles and candy to sit still while the doctor performed an echo-cardiogram. As the doctor finished his examination, I was surprised by his sudden stern countenance. He took the time to draw a diagram and explained that the procedure that saved her life is now enlarging two chambers of her heart. A year ago a cardiologist had said that her heart seemed healthy enough that she might not need another surgery until she was a teenager. We clung to that hope for the last year and it enabled us to establish a sense of normalcy in our home. We thought of Lily as a toddler, not a heart patient, primarily. Yesterday, the cardiologist explained that surgery will most likely need to occur in about four years, when Lily is six years old. The surgeon will perform open heart surgery to set a foreign valve in place that will stop the leakage which is enlarging her heart. Additionally, the surgeon will need to close a hole in her atrium and an angioplasty may be necessary in the future to open a vessel that is narrowing at this point due to a closing shunt. After that surgery, she will require a heart catheterization every five years to replace that valve and keep the heart pumping as it should.What was happening? A lump worked its way up into my throat and made it hard to breathe. I felt sadness and fear swelling in my chest and fogging up my brain. I peeled the veil of feelings back so I could stare the doctor in the eyes as he explained the next steps, the dangers, the warning signs if something goes wrong before that time. What was this sudden burning in my chest? Maybe my heart was breaking again over this broken-hearted child. I felt like I had been punched in the gut. It could be so much worse. We could have been told that they couldn't fix it. We could have been told that she had an irreparable problem or that she needed surgery immediately. I am thankful but still sad that she has to go through such pain and danger at such a tender age. I don't want my daughter to have to bear that burden. Not when she is two, six, or ten, or thirteen. I want to protect her from harm and pain. I can't always guard her heart from the fear that will set in or the pain she must endure. I can't protect her from feeling self conscious about her scars and anxious about her surgery when the time comes. But today I can bear that burden for her.
I am reading The Hiding Place by Corrie Ten Boom again for the first time in about seven years. There story she tells of a conversation she had as a child with her father in which he told her some burdens are too heavy for her to carry and he would carry them instead until she was ready. I can bear my daughter's burdens forthe next twenty, thirty, or forty years and lay them at the feet of Jesus. The knowledge of the risks and dangers of surgery are too heavy for her. I will carry them. The fear of how much pain she will feel and the terror of waking up with stitches, scars, and I.V.'s is too heavy. I will carry it. Sometimes I forget to take the burdens to my Father. I heave them over my shoulder and stumble under the weight of the guilt, devastation, bitterness, and pain. Fears and anxieties swim around my mind and anger, pity for her and for me, sorrow, and bitterness explode into a million pieces and spill all over the floor. In those moments, I weep and wail. I sometimes collapse on the kitchen counter or floor, overwhelmed by the dangers and concerns that await my little girl and weigh me down. But as I cry out, God hears me and His Spirit reminds me of His promises. He never promised me the absence of sickness, trouble, or death in this life. He promised to be with me. He said that He precedes me. He goes before me and prepares a way for me. He knows Lily's way though I cannot see it. I can not always feel His presence or understand how he is working but I will choose to trust Him and to treasure Him because He knows the way we take and when we have withstood the trials, He will bring us forth shining like gold - not for our own honor but for his great glory and fame.
is a
“Look, I go forward, but He is not there,
And backward, but I cannot perceive Him;
9 When He works on the left hand, I cannot behold Him;
When He turns to the right hand, I cannot see Him.
10 But He knows the way that I take;
When He has tested me, I shall come forth as gold.
11 My foot has held fast to His steps;
I have kept His way and not turned aside.
12 I have not departed from the commandment of His lips;
I have treasured the words of His mouth
More than my necessary food.
And backward, but I cannot perceive Him;
9 When He works on the left hand, I cannot behold Him;
When He turns to the right hand, I cannot see Him.
10 But He knows the way that I take;
When He has tested me, I shall come forth as gold.
11 My foot has held fast to His steps;
I have kept His way and not turned aside.
12 I have not departed from the commandment of His lips;
I have treasured the words of His mouth
More than my necessary food.
13 “But He is unique, and who can make Him change?
And whatever His soul desires, that He does.
14 For He performs what is appointed for me,
And many such things are with Him.
And whatever His soul desires, that He does.
14 For He performs what is appointed for me,
And many such things are with Him.
JOB 23:8-14
He makes everything beautiful in time.
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