We got to celebrate our sweet little girl turning 3 on Monday! Most of the time I can’t imagine life without Moriah and Charlie, but sometimes I look at our kids and think “What? How do we all of sudden have two other human beings that we’ve kept alive for this long?” Ha!
No surprises that Moriah’s birthday theme was Minnie Mouse. We had a day FULL of celebrating! When Moriah woke up, she looked around at some pre-made Minnie decorations hanging on the walls and ceiling. “It looks just like Mickey Mouse clubhouse!” It melted my heart and was a great start to the day. We also got to open a sack of minnie toys I hadn’t brought out yet from home. “These are just like the ones from the yellow house!” was another line I want to remember. Everyone at the hospital and at the school has coffee/snack break at 10am, so we had a short birthday party for Moriah’s friends younger friends.
For dinner we had Anna’s family over for dinner and Parker’s translator and friend. I ordered a big pot of rice and sauce from a village woman ahead of time. Anna brought her husband, son, and her husband’s twin. (We had been told if you ever meet a Harry or a Henry you know they are a twin. We were amused to learn that Anna’s husband is Henry and his twin brother is Harry. Apparantly, girl twins have standard names here as well.) Rain was imminent, so unfortunately Anna’s family had to leave quickly so they wouldn’t get stuck in the mud roads. We were disappointed we didn’t get to share Moriah’s story with them, but we loved having them in our home for a short time.
After dinner was finished, some more school-aged friends came over for cupcakes. Moriah’s face when she saw the cake was priceless! “Oh goodness! It’s so cute!”
If you’re ever looking for a frosting recipe using granulated sugar (because powdered sugar is expensive and hard to find in many countries),
this one was delicious. Parker’s friend made up a special birthday song just for Moriah. He has a wonderful voice, and him singing to her was a moment we will treasure.
And, finally, Nick shared Moriah’s story. Before her first birthday, we decided her birthday tradition would be to tell the story of her name…
Back when I was pregnant with Moriah, we had just bought a house in Wichita and were driving back and forth between Wichita and Iowa City working on our new house and preparing to move. On May 10, we headed back to Iowa City one last time to get our “gender reveal” ultrasound, get Nick graduated from medical school, and move our apartment down to Wichita. We made it back to Iowa City with minutes to spare before the ultrasound appointment, totally exhausted. Nick had nearly pulled an all-nighter tiling our new kitchen floor.
Nick knew the ultrasound tech, and many of the physicians, since he completed his medical training at the hospital. They talked while she performed the ultrasound, and we were thrilled to find out we were having a baby girl. Soon, however, she became quiet. “I’ll be back in just a few minutes,” she said. After awhile, she returned with 3 or 4 other people with her, one of whom was the maternal-fetal medicine specialist (doctor who specializes in problems with pregnancy). They did some more ultra sounding before they FINALLY started talking.
“Your daughter has what we call a splayed cerebellum. It’s characteristic of a syndrome called Dandy-Walker.” Basically, the back part of her brain wasn’t connected right. In a way, there was a piece missing. They went on to explain that Dandy-Walker ranges in seriousness, some people have minor disabilities, some people have major ones. “Some parents with a child with this condition would terminate the pregnancy, and we can certainly help you with that option if you would like.” We explained that wasn’t a consideration for us and asked a few more questions about Dandy-Walker.
“Is there any chance that what you’re seeing isn’t actually Dandy-Walker?” I specifically remember asking.
“No, there is no chance. This is what Dandy-Walker is.”
Nick and I went home to think and cry and process. We prayed, hardly knowing what to say. As days went on, we prayed for her brain to be healed, but mostly, we prayed that God would enable us to love the perfect little girl HE was giving to us. One night Nick was reading Genesis 22 where God asks Abraham to sacrifice his son, his only son, Isaac. This story has so much significance! (Please remember this story is descriptive: it describes. It is not prescriptive: it doesn’t tell us we should do the same.) Isaac was not only loved as a son, but Abraham’s future depended on Isaac: God had told him so! God had promised Abraham ten chapters earlier that God would bless Abraham by giving him many descendants and that through Abraham's descendants, all the world would be blessed. And God promised Abraham that Isaac would be the descendant that would get things rolling. As Nick read the story, I resonated so much with Abraham. What God was asking him to do seemed like a major sacrifice, the ultimate sacrifice, but Abraham believed God was good and would keep His promises. Abraham still believed God would bless him. At the top of the mountain, Abraham has his knife raised to slay his son.
“Abraham! Abraham!” an angel shouted. “Do not lay your hand on the boy…for now I know that you fear God…” Abraham looked over and there was a male sheep caught in a bush. So Abraham offered up the lamb instead. And he called the mountain “The Lord will Provide.” The mountain’s name is Moriah.
I would be lying if I said we had come to the point of total acceptance of God’s not-so-perfect, perfect gift to us. BUT He did give us an unwavering conviction that His gift of this little girl was indeed a blessing, and that she was for our good, even if her needs required all we could give and more. We knew that God would provide for us the very thing he was asking from us. He was asking for selflessness, patience, love, stamina, and perseverance. And we didn’t have enough of those things to last very long, but we believed He would give us more… more patience, more energy, more love. Trembling, we continued to walk up our own mountain believing He would provide what we didn’t have. We believe, Lord, help us in our unbelief.
Four weeks after the first ultrasound, we went back for another. The ultrasound tech looked around for awhile, and once again, told us she would be right back. She came back with another doctor or two who did some more looking.
“Well… her brain is perfectly normal. The piece that was ‘missing' on the first ultrasound is right there.”
.....?!?!?......!?!?!?......!??!?!?!
We continued to talk, and she explained possible reasons for them clearly not seeing it the first time and clearly seeing it the second time. Her explanations are perfectly legitimate, but they don’t really matter. What mattered was this:
- When our faith in God’s goodness was tested, He gave us more faith to believe that whatever He gives us is for our good. He provided for us what He was asking from us. Praise be to Him!
- Darkness is as light to him. What should have been white on the first ultrasound was dark. He isn’t bound by what we can or cannot see, or by what is 100% chance or 0% chance. He will do what He will do.
Our mountain story had a short timeline before we saw God’s amazing provision of complete healing. I know many people whose mountain is much higher and longer and more difficult than ours. They wait until heaven before they see God’s provision of healing. One friend in particular comes to mind. Doctors said her baby would maybe make it through childbirth. Today she rejoices she has a daughter who is alive at four years old, but she still climbs her mountain of having a daughter with disabilities. And she climbs this mountain rejoicing in God’s provision now - her daughter’s life - and in His provision to come - a new body in heaven that won’t be limited by soft bones!
The Lord will Provide has been my anthem here. Life is hard. It is hot. And when it is hot I still have to wear a skirt to my ankles, a head wrap, and a scarf around my shoulders. And I have kids who are hot. And not pottying in toilets. And then I think about the moms who are watching another child suffer from malaria - the kids' life in question. Or the farmers working hard in the hot sun to make a few dollars on onions and feed their families the same meals everyday - boiled flour balls with some onion and chili peppers.
Sometimes, God provides a way out - an unexpected lamb, a cool evening because of rain, a healed malaria child. Often times, though, He simply provides the faith to trust He indeed has our good in mind. He doesn't remove the mountain; He asks us to climb it and provides the energy to keep following Him up the path. And one day, what He will provide will make our mountain journey worthwhile. A favorite song lyric from Caedmon’s Call... “Is this the strange feeling of you working all for good? ...We had to walk the rocks to see the mountain view…This is the lead of love.” After all, Jesus’ path to His new body and new life led him up to Calvary. When he says, “Follow me,” should we expect, as Christians, to skip our cross and head straight for streets of gold? Our pain may not be fair... was Jesus's?
Paul, who was super respected as a Jewish leader and who punished people for being Christians, had an encounter with the risen Jesus that changed his life forever. He ended up traveling all over to tell people who hadn’t heard about Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection. In this process, he was beaten and jailed. He wrote the book of Philippians in jail. And in it he says (my paraphrase) “everything I had that once used to bring me respect and power I now count it as bringing me harm compared to what I have now that I know Christ.” He says that from jail. And then he says, “I want to know Christ…becoming like Him in His death, and so, somehow to have new, full life like Jesus” (my paraphrase at the end). Our suffering, our whatever-is-hard-about-our-lives-in-this-world, is what God uses to bring us to the end of ourselves, to our spiritual death, so that we can better be like His son. His son who suffered unfair punishment, spiritually and physically coming to the end of himself, in order that God might raise him from the dead through His Holy Spirit. And He did! On the third day He rose again.
And this same Spirit that raised Christ from the dead works in us when we follow Jesus. When we come to the end of ourselves and put ourselves in God’s care, trusting Him to provide whatever He sees best, His Spirit gives life to our deflated spirit. He raises us up from the dead so to speak. Nick and I believed He would do this in giving us a special needs child, and we know He will do this as Nick tirelessly cares for hurting people. And... so we don’t think our “suffering” has to look super noble or important, I believe He will do this with me as I continue to potty train my 3-year-old with no end in sight. I don’t want to compare cleaning up potty messes in a well-built house with running water to living in a mud hut with potty messes running out a hole in the wall, but I also don’t want to minimize the real moments of my life that are hard. I don’t want to dramatize them, but I don’t want to minimize them… because God uses them to bring me to the end of myself so I can place myself in His care and let His Spirit fill my own deflated one.
There are two kinds of suffering people. One, you are experiencing the day-in, day-out, never-ending demands of life. They are hard, and they zap your energy. They may not compare to what others are enduring, but they make your spirit tired. Don't waste this suffering. It's what God has for YOU. Let Him use it to bring you to the end of yourself and trust in His care. Two, you are going through more difficulty than seems fair for one person to endure. You cannot imagine how a God who is good would let this struggle or tragedy happen in your life. Would God take away someone else's life just to teach you a lesson? No. A resounding no. I don't have explanations. I do have this... God is crazy amazing compassionate: He cares. (Exodus 34:6, Exodus 3:7, Psalm 103). God's ways are higher than ours (Isaiah 55:8-9). We cannot pretend to explain or understand all the injustices in the world, but we can know God became human and voluntarily subjected himself to cruel suffering in order to offer us life. And we can take our honest questions to Him. He is not scared of them.
Ann Voskamp wrote a popular book called One Thousand Gifts. On a certain podcast I can't remember, she says, “His good gifts are forever. His hard gifts are for our good. His best gifts are yet to come.” Amen. The truly good moments? As we follow Jesus, we will enjoy ones like them forever. The hard moments? God uses them in ways we cannot understand - one being to help us trust Him more. The best moments? We can only imagine. Come, Lord Jesus, come.
