Inexplicit

Psalm 40; 1-3 : I waited patiently for the Lord. He turned to me and heard my cry for help. He pulled me out the horrible pit, out of the mud and clay. He set my feet on a rock and made my steps secure. He placed a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God. Many will see this praise to our God. Many will see this and worship. They will trust the Lord". 

Inexplicit; inherent in nature of something but not directly expressed ; an inexplicit response is the SAFEST

Inexplicit is how I felt as my daughter had uncontrolled violent seizures for the past 7 years. Inexplicit is what kept me going as we ventured to MU for Emily's brain surgeries. The inexplicitly that everything is good and will be well that comes from the Holy Spirit as you seek to anchor yourself as the tide is rising and the waves are crashing in at all sides. 

That is my artsy side explaining what happened to me as a mom as my daughter battled for her life the past 7 years. The reality is that I could have easily lost faith and complained daily. The beauty is that I took each day as a gift to be Emily's mom. 

A gift from our Heavenly Daddy that I was blessed with Emily. I took it in stride until we talked about brain surgery. As I realized that brain surgery was the only hope for Emily to have some sort of normalcy. Then knowing it was brain surgery that would save her life. Brain surgery not just once but twice. Having to rely not on being a mom but being a daughter of the King of Kings. 

A week after Emily's first surgery the hospital closed for all visitors. I wrote about it in the previous blog. The fourth blog is what happened after; 

The night after I was excluded from the hospital I went back to my home away from home and took a hot shower and cried. I prayed and asked God how could he do this to me? I begged for clarity. I begged for him to have mercy on Emily in the hospital. I told him Emily was his miracle. In tears I begged for him to give her a miracle. 

I continued praying into night.  I told him I was a miracle too and began to believe it.  I thanked him for the gift of my daughter.  I praised Him for being at MU. I thanked him for keeping her safe from Covid because there were no more visitors on her floor. I praised him for keeping me safe from Covid because I was no longer able to go to the hospital. I praised him because I had promise and perspective . I praised Him for the promise Emily holds as his daughter.  I praised him with worship music and sang not because I wanted to but because I had to. That night friends rallied with me in prayer via the internet. It made me realize that neither Emily or I were alone.  We were together with others believing our Heavenly Daddy is a miracle worker. 

The next morning I felt like our Heavenly Daddy told me to go for a walk. I got on my sweats, cute sneakers, and pulled my hair back. As I walked he reminded me that he told me that I would have to "run". He reminded me that I said yes to running with the provision of cute sneakers. He reminded me that running wasn't merely the act of running but it was going to difficult places and spaces that he would send me. He reminded me that through him I am never excluded but included.

 I walked each square of the very long driveway of the Mennonite Guest House declaring mercy and peace would not only live but thrive in this space and within me. I prayed a royal order of protection over my home away from home, the beautiful couple acting as caretakers and all who would enter. It was during my third lap that I felt a spark. A spark that said go write Emily a note and drop it off for her. I love to write I can do that! 

As I drove to the hospital I began talking to God and the tears rolled. I told him that I didn't know what to do. Everything was taken from me and I didn't know how to survive the latest blow of not being with Emily. I surrendered anything that I know to do and asked Daddy what should I do? 

In the silence of the drive I began to hear my friend singing "Waymaker". It wasn't on the radio or my phone. It was in my head. I remember thinking what is this all about Daddy? I can't go to South Dakota, where my friend lives, I need to be here in Columbia. I pulled over and listened closer. The lyrics :" waymaker, miracle worker, promise keeper, light in the darkness, my God that is who you are" kept repeating. It was literally like listening to a broken record. I sensed what God was after. He simply wanted me to praise him, to have faith, and see promise. 

It began simply with those lyrics in a very small voice that was almost bitter for being excluded. My voice got a little louder and I wiped my tears. I got back on the road and by the time I turned the corner for the hospital my voice was bigger and bolder and the bitterness had left. As I parked in the parking garage I came to the lyric "even when I don't see you your working " and I felt His presence and knew he was with Emily too.   

I dropped off the care package I felt like God wanted me to do laps. Ok, but I am only walking on my level of the parking garage was my response. I walked the level and another and another. I prayed for mercy, peace, and grace to prevail. I did a couple of laps before it felt right to get back in my car. 

The following few days I did the same thing; wake up, walk, pray, drive to the hospital singing by myself Waymaker, drop off a note for Emily at the front desk, then walk the level of the parking garage and pray, and sit in my car all alone and pray. 

A week had passed. I was woke up wide awake at 3am and felt our Heavenly Daddy telling me to pray. I went to the windows where the world was still dark except for the stars. I looked out the window and prayed.  I sat in the recliner in my room and began praying over Emily and the neuro ICU team and hospital smothering and covering into God's capable hands. 

At 5 am I felt our Heavenly Daddy tell me to get on my knees. I remember telling him I don't think I can get back up. I am too chubby. I am too old for that. That's when our Heavenly Daddy reminded me that earlier in the year I had my knee replaced. I looked around and saw that if I moved the recliner I could slide onto the floor and then get back up using the sturdy footboard of my bed. With a deep breath I slide onto the floor. The memory of how I loved playground slides as a kid hit me and I was thankful to God for it. 

 I got on my chubby girl hands and knees and prayed, listened, and prayed some more. When I was done it was 8 in the morning and the sun was out.  I took a deep breath and got dressed for my walk. I walked and prayed for mercy and grace and that no disease or virus affect or pernitrate my home away from home nor the caretakers. After my walk I wrote a note for Emily and drove singing "Waymaker" to the hospital. 

I dropped the note off at the front desk and left like I had for the past week. I heard "climb". My response was ; "Are you kidding me, God? You woke me up, you made me get on my hands and knees, go for a walk, and now you want me to climb? I don't even have cute sneakers on! ". I went to walk the level like I had been each day but kept hearing climb. Exasperated, I went to go sit in my car to rest and pout. 

Sitting in my car looking at my leopard lounger shoes I took a deep breath and then another. I don't even have on shoes to climb I whined. I will not climb in my leopard loungers, Daddy, don't even try to make me. As I whined I could feel that our Daddy wasn't asking me to physically climb. He would accept me driving my car and climbing the parking garage. I laughed that I had been whiny and started my car to "climb"  to the top of the parking garage. I got out of my car I felt encouraged. 

I could see the vastness of the blue sky ; is that what you wanted God to remind me how big you are? Then I saw several hawks flying from a distance. Is that why I am here God to see the hawks and know I am protected and so is Emily. Then I saw the sunlight reflected off the glass of the 7th floor of the hospital and tears rolled. 

The 7th floor that I walked days before praying mercy and grace. The 7th floor where Emily's room was. I praised God for knowing the wonders of my heart ; a big blue sky, hawks, and the 7th floor of MU where my daughter laid in a hospital bed. I grabbed my Bible and began to read Psalm 40 and then listen to 40 by U2 and let my emotions flow. I praised him for his goodness and graciousness in my life and asked Him for a miracle for Emily and left. 

I went back and "climbed" again that afternoon. I began to pray outside on top of the roof of the parking garage. The team at MU wanted one more seizure to verify that they had the correct areas of Emily's brain. We had been waiting on the seizure for what felt like forever and praying for it to come. The team had left the grid on Emily's brain an extra week. We were ending that second week and they had talked with Emily that if they didn't have a seizure this week that they would take off the grid and send her home. 

Heavenly Daddy please allow Emily to have another seizure you are the waymaker began my prayers that afternoon. I prayed I submitted Emily back to the hands that made her. I gave my daughter back to the hands that could heal her the miracle worker that is our God.  I asked that God would heal her here or in heavenly realms. I accepted that heavenly realms was a possibility and told God I accepted it. I told him either was acceptable because he is the light in the darkness.  I prayed Psalm 40. I watched the hawks fly over and sun gleaning on the 7th floor of MU where Emily was. I heard "it is done". 

What is done, Daddy? What? I instantly thought it was my car. My car that had a lot of miles and wear and tear. I got it in and it started. Still thinking it was my car I drove it to the smoothie place. As I paid for my smoothie I felt guilty for leaving the top of the parking garage. I drove back and before I could get to the top of the garage my phone was ringing. I kept going but then it rang again and I saw it was Emily. I pulled over. She told me that she was going to have surgery tomorrow. I asked if she  had a seizure. She told me no. She told me Dr. Bandy and his team had looked through her previous brain mappings. They felt confidant that the seizures were coming from the same section of her brain. Confidant enough that they were going to head to surgery with her. I asked her to take out the device for the brain mapping or part of her brain. She didn't know. I told her I would call the nurses station for details once I got to the top of the parking garage but I was praising God. 

I hung up and began to climb the parking garage for the top and I got another call from Emily. I had to pull over again. The neurosurgeons had been in. They confirmed surgery was happening tomorrow and that they would be taking off the grid and taking part of her brain. I told her I was delighted and would call her as soon as I got to the top of the parking garage. I got to the top of the parking garage and got out. I could see the blue sky at dusk, the hawks flying in the distance, and the sun fading in the glass windows of the 7th floor where Emily was. I heard again "it is done". I began to sing quietly Waymaker with tears rolling down my cheeks. 

I praised our Heavenly Daddy from the top of the parking garage that he was a waymaker, miracle worker, and indeed the light in our darkness. I praised him as I read Psalm 40 fully awake to what the scripture meant in my life and the life of my daughter. I played U2's 40 a couple of times and then took a deep breath. I went to call the nurses station to confirm. I found there was a message from Dr. Bandy who was confirming they were going to do surgery on Emily within 24-48 hours depending on when the team could book an operating room. I praise danced at the top of the hospital parking garage and didn't even care who saw it. I was excited that Daddy had said "it is done" and he means it! 

It took 48 hours for the operating room to become available. The day before surgery I called the nurses station and thanked them for being my hands and feet. I explained to them that every time Emily has a seizure we have a celebration of life party that she is still alive and we have her. I told them I wanted to give Emily a celebration of life party but I couldn't be there and asked if they would celebrate with her that she was going to have surgery.  They were delighted to help me. 

I went to Wendys for Emily;s favorite chicken nuggets and bought 5 family packs. I waited patiently for them to be made praising Daddy that "it is done". The manager brought them to my car and apologized for the delay and looked at me. He asked if I was ok. I told him about Emily. He asked if he could pray and did over Emily. Then he looked at me again and began to pray over me. When he was done he told me to call him to let him know how surgery went. 

I delivered the nuggets, pop, and cookies to the hospital for Emily's celebration of life party. I went to the parking garage and "climbed" to the top of the parking garage. I listened to U2's 40, then Waymaker, and then got out of my car to praise our Heavenly Daddy that my daughter not only lives but she was going to live to praise him. I prayed for a while and then went back to my car. I sat breathing it all in. A friend called to check in on me. I told her about the parking garage and "it is done" and told her I believe Emily's surgery would be a miracle. She said " Sherry I love you. I love that you get the little things in life that God gifts. I have to tell you I think you are forgetting something". Geez, what could that be? My friend asked me this;

*How many years has Emily had seizures? ; almost 7 years 

*What floor is Emily on in the hospital? 7th floor

*The number 7 is a symbol for what? I don't know... hold on I do but I can't think of it. Her reply was priceless ; "Sherry, 7 is a symbol of completion, when God says it is done he means it. I think it is not coincidence that it has been 7 hard years and Emily lays in a bed at MU on the 7th floor that is all God's signs for you and Emily this journey will be complete and done ". 

Ohh, friends, that is the beauty of living in the inexplicit. We don't always see, know, or hear exactly what is God is doing we just know he is there. Daddy is working on it even when we don't see it. Daddy never gives up and is beyond our worldly tirelessness and restlessness and whining. He is solid! He wants us to see the beauty of our daily into the mighty of our trials. 

I believe there is a solidness of living inexplicit with our Heavenly Daddy. Psalm 40 declares; "I waited patiently for the Lord. He turned to me and heard my cry for help. He pulled me out of a horrible pit, out of the mud clay. He set my feet on a rock and my my steps secure". Psalm 40 has given me a sense of solace and solidarity with the Lord when I feel out of touch and ill prepared. When the world has came to seek me, destroy, and make me lose heart it is a Heavenly Daddy that sees my despair, your despair, and pulls you out. He seeks to put us not only back on our feet but on a rock of his son Christ Jesus that we would stand free and clear. Clear to see, hear, and know our Daddy is always with us. Clear to see, hear, and love others as He has done for us without judgement or delay. 

I feel a natural beauty in writing this 4th of the series of "Lioness Among Tigers". It is the inherent nature of a Daddy who loves us dearly that comes in our despair. For Emily it took 7 years to gain seizure freedom. Today she is 113 days seizure free. The team at MU tells us that we can celebrate in 2 years. Today we celebrate 113 and counting. Below is a picture of sweet Emily on top of the parking garage at MU praying with her mama. 

May you walk in mercy and peace, 

Sherry

Updates; 

*We traveled through the rain and my migraine and nausea on Sunday and made it safely to Columbia.  Emily had a series of tests and a consult with Dr. Bandy. We would appreciate prayers for safe travels while we are here and for when we go home on Tuesday. 

*Emily's challenge of the week is hearing things correctly as they are spoken. I find her puzzled at times when I say metaphors; she has to ponder those for a while. She asks me to explain the meanings and feels "overwhelmed" at time this week in her recovery. 

*Her neurologist is concerned with Emily's equilibrium. His concern is that the seizures have moved to another spot in her brain and what we are seeing when she stumbles and trips as she walks is a seizure. There were no appointments available for a scan or for a 3 days EEG this week. That means we will have to return or those in the future. Would you pray that the schedulers call soon and we could get an appointment for both. 

*I will be returning to Sough Dakota in late April. Prayers over my ability to be God's light in my travels there. Emily has been cleared today by Dr. Bandy so she can go with me. He told us to make it back by her appointments in June and be safe. 

*Dr. Bandy cleared Emily to ride her bike again! Well, only around the block but that is huge! This is something she hasn't done without us walking or riding with her in years. She has to wear a helmet which she has. He told me to make sure the helmet is tight on her head. I told him I would verify the fit of her unicorn helmet and he laughed and told us that his daughter loves unicorns too. 

 

Excluded VS Exclusive

Matthew 10:28-31 "And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. But even the hairs on your head are numbered. Fear not, therefore, you are of more value that the sparrows".

I've been pondering a while with each of the blogs about Emily. I know that I am supposed to write five and there are only two done. I know that God wants total transparency which petrifies me. How can I be eloquent with my words and the ordeal that we have experienced? I think it might take more than five blogs, God, geez. To which I hear "write". 

We bought a Ring for our front door. The past couple of weeks the Ring has been ringing but there is no one on the camera or at the front door. I can however here the wind blowing and birds chirping. Most people might find it annoying. I don't it reminds me that I am far more important to God than the birds. 

When I hear the birds chirp it reminds me that I am not bigger than my creator and that he is protective of me. He is protective over Emily. This week marks a milestone for Emily she has been seizure free 103 days as of today. I began to cry today because I can not remember a time where my daughter has been 103 days seizure free. There is something daunting about that. I have been taking a step back each day to try to comprehend that when God says "it is done" he means it. 

 I feel scared to write about Emily being seizure free because what if she isn't? What if I was wrong as I stood praying and rallying our Heavenly Daddy to heal my daughter? What if I look like a fool with my words. What if my words and actions let our Heavenly Daddy down? Here's a brief history and maybe it is why I hesitate. 

To catch you up it took 5.5 years to find a neuro team that would take Emily's case. Within those 5.5 years we had seen four neurologists. Each passing the case to another because they did not know how to help Emily. The local KC neurologist told me that he was good but it was going to take a team to look through her case and to help her. He sent her case to both KU and MU. Within a week we heard that KU said no. Our prayers were on MU to take her case. It took 1.5 months before we got a call from MU and they wanted to schedule a new patient appointment. 

Last year the MU team told us that Emily was a candidate for surgery to save her life. The neurosurgeon shared that Emily's seizures are so severe that people that have them usually die within the first year. He shared that if they live their memory is affected but yet Emily could remember organic chemistry calculations and do them correctly. Dr. Sadek asked me if I had faith? I said "yes, sure". Then he asked me again "Do you have faith?" because I guess he wasn't satisfied with the first response. I said boldly "YES". He told me to look at Emily because I am seeing a "miracle". He told me he could not wait to work on a miracle and she what she will do in her life. 

After the first brain surgery in late October I came to the hospital everyday. I told Emily she was a miracle at birth. I told her each day before I left that she was living breathing hope to me. I made her repeat after me "I AM A MIRACLE" each day before I left her room. There was something that settled my heart, mind, and spirit that my kid would know she was a miracle while I wasn't with her. I would pray as I left her room and going down the corridor of the hospital. I would walk in mercy aka my right foot and peace aka my left foot.  I went through the hospital muttering in pray for mercy and peace to prevail among the patients, families, and staff at MU. 

The first week I frequently felt compelled to go and ask people if I could pray for them. I had no idea why but I did it. No one ever said no. I have come to see it as the Holy Spirit guiding me to others that were as overwhelmed as I. I praised our Heavenly Daddy for each precious person that I was bold enough to pray with because it was changing me. It was building me stronger than I knew I could feel it with each prayer. 

Then came the day that I went to the hospital and there was a big dry erase board on a easel. It said that "Beginning 11/13 No Hospital Visitors for the Safety of our Patients and Staff". I began to weep and frantically texted my handful of friends with a picture of the sign and the message "pray".  As I got to near the check in desk I saw the gal that I had gotten to know. Even though I knew what the sign meant I asked her with tears "What does that mean?". She looked at me and began to cry too. She said "Sherry, I am so so sorry. You can't catch a break. I am so sorry but ...". The rest was about Covid rising at the hospital and the number of cases doubling in one day. I heard her that the Covid cases were rising. I took a deep breath with my mask on. I saw the long line of visitors behind me. I said "Can I pray with you quickly because I need to spend time with Emily today but I need you to know you are covered in mercy and peace of our Heavenly Daddy that no disease nor virus will effect you or your family. God has you and I will be praying over you today as you deal with people that mercy and grace prevail".  In tears together she asked if she could hug me. 

After the hug I felt better. I felt like God was protecting me and Emily from Covid. My friends had started to text back and I felt supported. I felt like this was going to be tough but God created me tough. I did what any other mom would have done. I went to the gift shop and bought all the Sprite and Milk Duds they had and took them to Emily. 

The last day I got to be with Emily I could feel that God needed to separate us. I couldn't understand why. It broke my heart that at this moment he would choose to exclude me. Before I left one of the neurologists from the team popped in before I had to leave to talk to me.  He shared that Emily is a miracle which is why she was there. He told me that the team was hopeful that they could help her and that I needed to be hopeful too. He told me "we must never lose hope" and shared the team remained hopeful. 

Emily's nurses came in to tell me they were sorry about the situation. They told me that they were only told 10 minutes before visiting hours. I told them that I felt like God was protecting both Emily and I from Covid. I shared that I didn't like it but I accepted it. I told them that I had been praying over them and the Neuro team. I asked if I could pray for them. Several of the nurses came in and I prayed over them and the rest of the team that no disease nor virus would affect them, their family, or pernitrate their cars or homes. That our Heavenly Daddy would bubble wrap each of them and keep them safe. I praised God that He had given Emily these nurses to be His hands and feet. 

Before I left I hugged my daughter taking a deep breath in that it would not be the last time I hugged her. I asked her "what are you? and she said loudly "I AM A MIRACLE".  I prayed over Emily as her door closed and wept in the hallway. I praised our Heavenly Daddy for her and told him to take her back because his love was better than mine. His protection and care more vast than anything I could do. I praised him and then walked down the hallway in mercy and peace. I left the hospital that afternoon feeling excluded. Excluded from my daughter in an unbearable way that I have never experienced. As I sat in my car I sobbed harder than I think I have my whole life. 

Excluded from the hospital and Emily.  It hit me sitting there in the car to pray it out. As I prayed I felt better and bolder. So bold that I prayed via social media before I left . I prayed over Emily, the neuro ICU team, and then over the floors of the hospital, staff, patients, and other families like me that were now excluded. 

I took a deep breath and I felt like our Heavenly Daddy was reminding me that Emily has been excluded by life. Excluded from college because the seizures were coming twice a week or more. Excluded from her own memory so much that she struggled the final semester she was in college. Excluded as friends have graduated from college, got married, and have kids. Excluded of the life she once dreamed of.  I have never felt that type of exclusion like Emily. It hit me that our Heavenly Daddy had me just where he wanted me excluded to him and only him. It hit me that I could not lay down defeated.  I was excluded from the hospital but with resolve I decided I would not leave Columbia without my daughter. It hit me that the blows I experienced this one day were nothing in comparison to what Emily had been facing for 6.5 years. 

As I wiped my tears and closed my prayers in the parking garage I felt like God told me to go buy a book. I was like really now? I am in a city that I do not know and I have just been excluded from my daughter. The request came again to go buy a book. I told him yes and asked him to guide me. He took me to a thrift shop and when I asked him what book he just told me "any book you choose". I went in and found a book, bought it, and as I went to get into my car there was a lady behind me. She asked "do you have anything you could give me?". I started to weep because if I were home I'd have water bottles, granola bars, and spare cash for people. But I wasn't home I was excluded from what I know and what I know to do. That broke my heart. 

My back was still turned to her when she asked again "Do you have anything?". I turned to look and her and through my tears I told her "I have nothing. My daughter had brain surgery and is waiting to have her second brain surgery. Today the hospital locked me out because of Covid. I have nothing to give" and then I wailed and cried harder. She came up to me and said "Child you are more broke than me" and began to pray over Emily and me. She said "God's got your girl but its you he needs" and she began to pray over me. I listened as she was praying and muttering to herself. After a while she said "God has got Emily and he has you now too. Your girl is gonna be just fine and so are you". And, then she walked away. I stood and cried. All of sudden it hit that I never told her Emily's name but she knew it. Then I thought you fool go find her and offer her a ride. I went the same direction that she was walking but couldn't find her. 

My problem at MU was that I got excluded from being a mom. I was excluded from being our Heavenly Daddy's hands and feet to Emily. Excluded from the some sort of life I was living while in Columbia. For you it might be being excluded from the life you want.  Or being excluded from bearing God's light brilliantly because you aren't sure how or when. Perhaps the noise from the world is so loud and you feel so very small.  Maybe you feel excluded because you believe you are unworthy or deserve nothing but the very least. 

As I look back I see that our Heavenly Daddy did not want me to feel excluded but to be "exclusive" with him. That is why he sent me to go buy a book in city that I didn't know and a place I had never been. He placed a complete stranger that knew him and would speak promise into me there. He knew that I would listen, that I love books, and love a good thrift shop find. He knew his precious daughter was hurting, felt broke, and felt excluded.  He used a lady at a thrift shop to remind me that when I am broken I am not forgotten or alone. 

My go to verse is ; Matthew 10:28-31 "And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. But even the hairs on your head are numbered. Fear not, therefore, you are of more value that the sparrows". This verse has served me well to remember that I am ; chosen, worthy, filled with grace, and valuable. It has helped me break free to have faith in hard things. It is why I laugh when I see a bird pooped on my windshield ; I always think of this verse and thank God that I have indoor plumbing and that he loved me far more than the bird that did its business on my windshield. I hope the verse will encourage you too. 

I want to encourage you that our Heavenly Daddy is ; steadfast, loving, and exclusive. I feel he wants me to share that you are not alone you are seen. You have been created beautifully and splendidly with promise and perspective, friends. At your birth you were a miracle of life! As you read this you are a miracle! You have the opportunity to be exclusive with your creator! YOU ARE A MIRACLE. 

Walk in mercy & peace. 

-Sherry 

PS ; we are heading back to MU this week for vision testing for Emily. We would love prayers for safe travels there, while we are there, and back home later this week. 

Emily is having issues with her equilibrium. It began last week more and more each day. She is stumbling when she walks and tripping. At times her steps are awkward. We have called MU and they told us it is all part of the recovery process. I know she would love prayers that her equilibrium come to full fruition and that she would walk with grace and dignity. 

 

Happiness is Beautiful

 "He gathers the water in the sea like a dam and puts the oceans in his storehouses" ; Psalm 33:7

I've been having a time discerning what to write about in the series I call "Lioness Among Tigers". I've taken a timeout to access and discern what God is leading me to write about and then praying over it. What is being asked to write about is deeply personal. It is about Emily's journey and my own, friends. 

I have been guarded because of the mama bear that protects her daughter. In the second year of seizures I was praying more like pleading with our Heavenly Daddy in tears for Emily. It was during one of those whiny pleas that I heard "Emily's story is my glory. It is her story. Dry your tears and be her mom. You are my hands and feet, daughter".  I stopped writing and speaking about Emily and her seizures. About the extreme pressure my daughter was under and I as her mom. 

Now our Heavenly Daddy has done a miracle. Emily is 48 days seizure free. She has not been seizure free for this long since she was 19.  We are now in year 7 of "her story for his glory". It feels like God is telling me it is time to open the dam and the storehouse that has been guarded. It's been a challenge friends and a heartbreaking process to write the second in this series. How much do I share; the response is "all of it". Won't that make me volatile? The response "not a chance it will make you free".  Ok, here we go, friends; 

My mom passed away last year. As I went through my mom's clothing to donate last year I came across her perfumes. I stood in her bathroom and just cried and sniffed perfume. I found a bottle of "Happy" perfume and cried more. 

When I was a teenager I so wanted a bottle of "Beautiful" perfume. My mom and I went to the mall. My mom told me that I needed to smell all the different perfumes and find the right scent that was uniquely me and not just what I wanted.  We sniffed and sniffed and then went and got a coke. We came back to sniff and sniff some more. I found the bottle of "Beautiful" that I wanted. My mom sniffed and said "Beautiful is too heavy for you, Sherry. I think Happy is exactly you. Happy is what God created when he gave me you. When I look at you I see a happy girl that perplexes me because she can always see and find the good". 

Each year after we would go on my birthday to the perfume counter together and she would buy me "Happy". I wore the perfume not only as my scent but as a reminder of what God created me to be; to find the the positive and hope for the best. Secretly, I still longed for "Beautiful" but knew that beautiful was too heavy for me. It became a metaphor for my life, friends. I have spent years spinning in happy ; finding the good in the moment, seeking the best from God, and knowing heartache that only the Lord could heal. Being happy but never feeling beautiful. 

November marked the first anniversary of mom's death. I totally forgot it. My daughter was in the hospital fighting for life and we were in a battle for a miracle from Heaven. At the time it didn't feel happy or beautiful. It felt painful, prolonged, and personal ; that is right where our Heavenly Daddy wanted me. He wanted to teach me a lesson that even when you feel attacked, frightened, and overwhelmed you can be happy. That kind of happy is beautiful because it is heavy. 

A friend asked me last week how Emily was doing. This is what I shared; Today she felt like she was slurring her speech. I assured her that she wasn't and she sounded just fine. She actually repeated her sentence a couple of more times to make sure that I heard her and it was correct. Her hair has started growing back which is a huge self esteem booster. The biggest thing is that she has not had a seizure since we got home".  Just typing that makes me happy. Can you feel how that could be happy or possible even beautiful? Yeah, probably not enough for beautiful but definitely happy.  

I went on telling my friend ; I think the biggest praise to our Heavenly Daddy is that the girl I sent to college at 19 is back. I have not seen Emily track this well in years which brings me to tears. I have seen her gradually being reduced to one or two days that she tracks well. The rest of the days she; has garbled speech, stumbles as she walks, has migraines, and sleeps her days and nights away.  Right now she is doing NONE of that. She does nap but when she is up she holds a conversation well, is pertinent with information, and shares from her heart and soul beautiful stories about her journey. The most impressive is that she has told me that she has felt she has felt trapped in her own body for years with no way out and feeling like she was loosing it".  There are lots of things within that where you could find happiness especially that Emily can now talk freely rather than having something holding her back...but beautiful? Check this out.  

I finished up telling my friend this ; "Emily told me what got her through all of it is that she could feel that she wasn't alone. She says it felt like someone was always there with her but it wasn't me, her dad, or brother it felt different. Emily shared she felt the same way at the hospital. At the hospital she had a dream that Jesus was sitting next to her holding her hand as she slept. Emily told me that it has been Jesus there with her for the past 7 years beside her. That she couldn't realize it was him because of the seizures, migraines, memory loss, and not tracking well but now she knows that it was always him". I believe that is too heavy to be called just happy, friends, that can only be called beautiful. 

As I sat writing for the past couple of weeks to come up with a second blog in the series I kept coming back to the "Happy" perfume with my mom. I kept thinking about my text to a friend. This week it became clear I needed to write about being happy and the heaviness of truly being beautiful. 

I would be hard pressed to tell you that everything for seven years with Emily has been easy or happy. The seizures she experienced were grueling for her physically, mentally, and spiritually. The seizures came unexpected in the night or even when we were sitting eating dinner at the kitchen table. The seizures came to reap and sow in fear not only in Emily but in me and our family. We could not live a normal life and we could never anticipate the weariness of sheer happiness. I took everyday as a challenge to remain happy.  To give God praise each day that I woke up and that I had a daughter named Emily. I praised God that he had promise and perspective for Emily and that her story would be for his glory. We began doing a "celebration of life" over Emily after every seizure. It was a time to celebrate she was still alive and pray over her.

Friends, I know it is hard to be happy. I know it is hard to find praise when you want surrender. I have believed for years that beautiful was too heavy a fragrance for me.  I also began believing that beautiful could never be a descriptive word for me or my life. Seven years ago my life changed my life.  Seven years ago in January when Emily's college called and said she was in the ER and was unresponsive after a seizure. They told me that she began seizing in class and stopped breathing. That she was unresponsive and the EMT's were called. They told me that she laid in an ER in St Louis alone and unresponsive. I had no idea what had happened. The one thing I did know was that she was not alone that Jesus was there with her. I put all my trust that Jesus was there as I called the hospital and quarreled with the staff until a nurse had mercy on me and told me that my 19 year old daughter was alive and details. 

 As I began thinking about writing about being happy and beautiful this week. I can't say that Emily or my story has been a happy one for the past 7 years. In honesty, friend, yesterday, stunk! Emily wasn't tracking well and almost fell down twice trying to use the stairs. By the grace of our Heavenly Daddy I was home with her and could get her up the stairs and in a chair. I asked if she was ok and her response was "overwhelmed" and then nothing. Nothing but "overwhelmed" and tears. 

I know the face of disappointment, delay, and anguish yesterday just like I did 7 years ago with the phone call from Emily's college.  I felt Psalm 33:7 pop out; "He gathers the water in the sea like a dam and puts the oceans in his storehouse". I sense that God has been gathering the waters around Emily and our family for the past 7 years and creating a dam that held back despair and replaced it with determination. He created a storehouse of God given grit for Emily, myself, my husband and son to access when needed, necessary, or we just wanted to. 

God given grit allows the passing of time without recognizing the pain of the moments in between. God given grit allows you to wake in the morning and praise our Heavenly Daddy for waking up and ask him what should we do today and listening for a response. It allows each of us the capability of being happy in the face of what we are going through personally or what is happening in the world. 

God given grit allows us to seek mercy and peace at all times. God given grit is ours even when we do not hear a response as we pray.  God given grit allows us the freedom to deal with the day and the challenges we encounter. God given grit is the blessing of trusting our Heavenly Daddy, our creator, who calls us beloved with everything and walking in mercy and peace not only for our own happiness but to bear his light brilliantly to the world. 

I feel like I need to point something out, friends. Something very important. There are times I have come to know when our Heavenly Daddy is silent. He is NOT silent because I have made him mad or that I am undeserving. It is by grace that he is gifting me silence because my world is so very, very extraordinarily noisy. It is his gift that I would find solace in the silence of just being with him. Solace in silence can bring happiness if you realize the gift from Heavenly realms that it is. 

In the past 7 years there have been mornings that I hear what I am to do and I relish those mornings because they bear my heart and soul of who I am created to be. There have been more mornings that I heard silence and that I knew it was going to be a tough day and one that I could feel compromised. In the silence I grew in resilience with our Heavenly Daddy for the day and how to approach it. Resilience led me to an alignment with our Heavenly Daddy that says "you can go if you want but I would really like it if you stayed a while". That alignment is fierce and is a step to allowing yourself to dig your heels in and stand when the world roars to knock you down and make you whimper. If you have experienced moments like that and stood tall and firm on the rock of Jesus guess what? That is God given grit. 

Grit lets the world roar and knows that our Heavenly Daddy's ROAR is so much bigger, louder, and fiercer than anything else. Grit releases you to tell your Heavenly Daddy to ROAR over you and situations to break you free. Grit requires absolute trust and praise to a Daddy that will always be there and ready to pick you up out of the mud and clay and sit your feet back on the rock and make you steady. Grit is allows you to be happy at times that would bring tears. Grit is saying that happiness is beautiful when the world sees a mess. 

Emily had surgery on November 19. I got to bring her home before Thanksgiving. One week after coming home I was up in the morning watching the news. I saw a commercial advertising makeup at Macys and cried. It hit me that it had been one year since my mom passed. One year and I forgot it. Emily heard me crying and came to make sure I was ok. I told her that I thought we should go buy some perfume. I shared with her I forgot my mom's death anniversary. I shared with her about "Happy" and "Beautiful" and asked if she would go with me to buy perfume. 

By God's grace my daughter was two weeks out of her second brain surgery and was walking and talking. She hugged me and told me she would get ready. We went to Macys for perfume. I bought a bottle of Happy and a bottle of Beautiful. The happy is for the girl that I was and still am that loves the God, sees the best in people and situations, and hopes. The beautiful is for the mom that helped me realize that being happy can be beautiful but it can feel "too heavy" for us. Beautiful grace steps in when that happens. Emily and her journey has allowed me to see that beautiful is not heavy but it is connected to being happy.

Today I praise our Heavenly Daddy for God given grit that he has in storehouses for us to use. I find thanks for generations of women that challenge me and allow me to be who I am. I had to stop writing to praise our Heavenly Daddy for the gifts of my mom and my daughter. I am thankful for the ability to see that happy and beautiful work together harmoniously even as the world roars. I know my Heavenly Daddy ROARS over me and you too. I am praying that I will walk in mercy and peace today. I pray that you will find yourself walking in mercy and peace too. 

There it is friends. The second one is wrote. Wowsies, what an incredible blessing to dig in and share with you. 

May you walk in mercy and peace- Sherry 

 

Fascination

"I waited patiently for the Lord. He turned to me and heard my cry for help. He pulled me out of a horrible pit, out of the mud and clay. He set my feet on a rock and made my steps secure". Psalm 40;1-2

This is the first of my "Lioness Among Tigers" series of blogs. This week I was given several words and have some idea of what our Heavenly Daddy is after me to write. I chose the title "Lioness Among Tigers" for a variety of reasons. The first is that I began calling Emily "little lioness" after her first surgery to put a grid on her brain in October. She was so brave, determined, and filled with the Holy Spirit. Why tigers? The University of Missouri aka MU's mascot is the tiger. Here is my first tale in the series; 

It's been almost 7 years since my darling dot, Emily, had her first seizure at 19. Initially, we thought it could have been a fluke and then the second seizure came. I could sense that it wasn't a fluke. We have been a roller coaster ride for almost 7 years. One that we can't get off and one that it feels like we are locked into. 

Emily was 25 when we found not just a neurologist but a team. A team that went through her medical records and did not reject or cast her out. A team that said we want to help your daughter and believe we can. Emily began her first series of tests with the team at MU last year around this time. 

She stayed in the hospital for over 3 weeks hooked up to wires and electrodes that covered her scalp last year. She had a total of 6 seizures within that 3 weeks. Those seizures gave the MU team and idea of where the seizures were coming from and how they could help. The team gained knowledge of the severity and violence of Emily's seizures ; the first 3 seizures they let go with the medical team at Emily's side to see what happens, duration of time, and they gathered info. Emily stayed in the hospital in 2019 without me. We video chatted, sent texts, and talked daily. Each day last year I began to send Emily back to our Heavenly Daddy.  Gifting her back to the one that created her and could heal her. 

It hit me that I was only hands and feet to Emily last year. I was no kind of parent in comparison to our Heavenly Daddy. The thought was comforting rather than tragic. It felt like God was allowing me to help Emily navigate, advocate, and to be there when and if things fell apart. It was then I began to pray Psalm 40 over Emily and myself. I felt ill prepared to be her hands feet but willing. I knew I was unprepared for the emotions that flooded my heart, mind, and spirit and so I prayed Psalm 40 over myself daily. 

We had hope last year that our Heavenly Daddy was moving. I had been praying over Emily and each time I heard Emily would be healed here at the age of 25.  At the beginning of 2020 I was hopeful because Emily was 25. We had the team at MU. I had settled into being Emily's hands and feet. Our Heavenly Daddy was going to make it happen and heal her at 25. I was excited! 

Then Covid hit. The excitement was still there but dulled. The ability to run further tests had to happen but because of restrictions due to Covid they came at a slower pace. I kept praying over Emily and I each day and night using Psalm 40.  This spring we had a consult with her neurologist. Emily chose to pursue surgery. My question to the neurologist was this "do you think that she will be able to have the surgery this year". He said yes but first there were more tests and more consults but yes absolutely she could have surgery this year. I knew it! I knew it Daddy you are gonna heal Emily at 25! 

We finished all the tests this summer and had a surgical consults in September. Emily turned 26 on August 5. I was heart broken. God told me for four years she would be healed at 25. He showed me in my dreams my daughter and then her brain filled with wires and hands moving the wires on her brain. The night of her 26th birthday I cried and got angry with our Heavenly Daddy after Emily went to sleep. I raged on for hours and cried. In the early morning hours my husband came in and told me it was enough that I couldn't be that angry. I told him to get out and let me take all my rage and anger to our Heavenly Daddy because he can take it and I can't. I finished my rage party around 5 in the morning by praying Psalm 40 over both Emily and I. 

Fascination is a "neurological state of intense focus. One that creates an irresistible feeling of engagement". This week as I prayed in jubilation over Emily I heard the word "fascination". As I journaled notes to our Heavenly Daddy &  this was the response I heard; " You may feel scattered and battered. I see dignity and grace restored. Refinement at its finest. And, the ability to rest with sweet slumber just like you pray over others. Sherry, you truly need to rest for the fascinating start of the journey is coming quickly. Love, Daddy".  If that was not enough to absorb and ponder less than a minute later came this "PS; thanks for walking in my wonderland". 

Geez, friends, I would not say that the last 7 years have been a wonderland. If you asked me on August 5th of this year I would NOT have doubted the goodness of the Lord but I would have doubted his timing. As I step back I can see that our Heavenly Daddy did bring healing to Emily at 25. Two months after her 25th birthday the team at MU took Emily's case and began to run tests. The team that were God's hands and feet to Emily with meticulous precision. Not the team that we chose but the team that our Heavenly Daddy chose. All of the tests for the first surgery were done when Emily was 25. That means it was all in motion while Emily was 25. I can look at our journey and see the fascinating way that our Heavenly Daddy has moved in this journey. 

I feel like I need to share just small excerpts with you of our journey. Excerpts of our life for the past 7 years. Excerpts of the roller coaster ride that our Heavenly Daddy has taken us on. This week I shared some about pain and anger as a mom. A mom who has no control over her child or what is going on with her child...can you relate?

 I believe that many of you see this year like the roller coaster that you can't get off. I get it. There is a stillness in the world that I have never known. A panic, fear, and paranoia that makes you cry for help. I understand. I have been there as we fight for Emily as the world battles Covid. 

I am writing this so that you know that your feelings are real and justified. There is beauty in your feelings and emotions because our Heavenly Daddy is waiting to hear from you with every last "fascinating" detail you can tell him. You are a "fascinating" child of God. Webster's dictionary defines fascinating as;  "the moment where you feel and experience confidence and clarity". Right now wouldn't you like to experience confidence and clarity? I know I would. 

Our Heavenly Daddy feels the intense weight of what you are going through and longs to hear from you. If you are like me you can write a "Dear Heavenly Daddy" letter. Maybe you can pray out loud which is marvelous. Or maybe you have no words and for you, friend, I would encourage you to sit  silently and allow yourself time in the stillness to just breathe in and out and with each breath know your "fascinating" journey is being heard by our Heavenly Daddy. Webster's dictionary defines fascination as;  "the moment where you feel and experience confidence and clarity". Right now wouldn't you like to experience confidence and clarity? I know I would. 

The last two years I needed to build my own confidence in myself and whom our Heavenly Daddy says I am. I needed clarity on how to navigate as his hands and feet to Emily. I began to pray Psalm 40 over Emily and I because I had no words and it came to me in the stillness of just breathing in and out in silence. I'm going to suggest you pray Psalm 40 over yourself and then pray it again over your kiddos, spouse, family or friends. I want to encourage you that when you pray that you pray for yourself first. Why? It's like being in an airplane and the oxygen masks drop first you have to take the air before you can pass the mask. Take air, friends, breathe and pray over yourself first so that you will have the strength and stamina to pray over others. 

Maybe you don't know the Bible or feel like that is just too big of a leap of faith.  I get that too. I'm old school and would suggest that you go to You-tube and listen to U2's song "40". Grace is that the song is less than three minutes. The song "40" is based on Psalm 40 and I think you will find it "fascinating" to listen, ponder, and just breathe to.  

Thanks for reading. I would adore if you share this blog with others and allow my words to flow beyond just those that I know. Have an incredible week, friends. If you have a prayer request it would be my honor to pray for you. Feel free to message me with prayer requests. 

May you walk in mercy and peace ; Sherry