Evil’s greatest victory
Witnessed upon Calvary’s tree
Love, embodied, clothed in flesh
Murdered, sentenced unto death
His blood, it flowed for me.

Behold – the veil is torn in two!
The grave – its seal is broken through!
Alive! Alive! The people cry
Spirits, now, no more will die
All things will be made new.

Boundless wisdom takes death's sting
Transforms it, so that it may bring
Cleansing, peace, humility,
Confession, strength, tranquility,
Sweetness, closeness, with the King.

Amazing love! Can it be true?
That though our trials still ensue
By Your hands they now become
The means by which You draw us from
Ourselves and unto You.

And when our sufferings abound
Our consolations then, are found,
Much greater still, so we can mend
Discouraged souls and with Him send
Their feet to higher ground.

When sorrow comes, friend, do not fear
Cleanse your hands, humbly draw near
Accepting what His hand ordains
Be it comfort, grief, or pain -
Press on, and Him revere.

From Eden until Christ appears
He holds us tight and dries our tears
Never shall we be apart
For He has died to cleanse the heart
Of sinners who will hear.

"Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God." - Corrie Ten Boom



Christmas 2009. Intubated & awaiting tracheostomy surgery.

Christmas 2013. It has been four years since God prompted us to bring Timothy to the ER to save his life. That day in 2009 marks a major turning point in God's plan for our family.

Before, I had viewed suffering as an obstacle to overcome, not a place in which to dwell. But Timothy's condition would not allow that kind of victory. His problem was chronic. It could not be postponed, pushed through, or put away. It had to be accepted. For the rest of our lives.

Thank God that He is merciful, giving us at each moment only what we are able to bear, making His grace sufficient for us, and making us more like Christ in the process.

Christmas 2013 will begin a new chapter in our lives as God moves us far away from the comforts of home into a new, unfamiliar place. One by one, the pieces of our lives are being transferred from the world of everyday experience to the gauzy, ethereal realm of memories. Saying goodbye is painful, difficult, and brings sadness. This too, must be accepted.



Recovering at Kaiser Sunset PICU.

Last month as I sat beside Timothy's hospital bedside, my heart broke as I watched his young spirit despair in fear and sadness. I tried to distract him with movies and toys, but what he wanted was to hear Psalm 23. He listened intently as I told him of God's green pastures, of Him restoring our souls, of having Him to comfort us as we walk through the valley. Then I read the words of Isaiah 53, of Jesus, who understood what physical pain felt like. Then came the verse we had been memorizing the week before, Revelation 21:4, "And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away." He was engaged. He was enraptured. He heard every word. With an intriguing combination of childlike faith and the maturity that is gained only through suffering, my little boy was drinking in the water of life, God's truth, to comfort his hurting soul.



Cupcakes for Timothy Fundraiser.

The fact that we cannot understand the "why" of suffering does not matter. What counts is our response. It makes me think of a little girl named Audrey, 3, whom we met at Ronald McDonald House during our last stay. Audrey's mom showed me some of Audrey's "Beads of Courage." Every time Audrey endured a difficult medical procedure, she earned a special bead. "These are the ones she earned this week," said Audrey's mother, showing me a handful of beads. "She has a necklace in our room that goes all the way to the floor."

My prayer for Audrey, for Timothy, for you, is that, we will all turn to the suffering Son of God to come alongside us in our pain and find rest for our souls as we put our trust in Him. Have you asked Jesus to forgive you for your sins? He came to earth as a baby on Christmas so that He could grow up, take the punishment of death that was reserved for you, and bear it upon Himself so that, someday, you can dwell in the presence of the Almighty where there will never be any pain again.

Like us, is God beginning a new chapter in your life?

Hebrews 12:25," See to it that you do not refuse Him who is speaking."

Merry Christmas.

Loves those binkies to this day.



G-tube feed with Daddy.



If there is mud, he will find it.

Gardening with Daddy.



Best brothers.



Cooking with Mommy.

Fun in the sun.

Recovering from T&A sugery, March 2012.

Recovering from facial resection surgery, June 2013.



He loves Cubbies!

Recovering from epiglottis surgery, December 2013

I love this little boy.

Deuteronomy 8:2
"And you shall remember that the Lord your God led you all the way these forty years in the wilderness, to humble you and test you, to know what was in your heart, whether you would keep His commandments or not."

In less than a week my husband and I will be bringing our son back to the hospital for another surgery. Then we will fly home, pack our things, and move away.

I wish so much that I could put into words how it feels to be Timothy's Mommy right now. Instead my thoughts are as disorganized as the half-packed boxes in the garage. I guess it doesn't really matter if I could write everything down; no one could possibly understand what it's like to hold their inconsolable toddler in the PACU unless they have done it.

Sometimes I just gaze at my son's little four-year-old face and ask why he has to endure so much. I wonder how much of his childhood innocence could possibly be left. I think about all he has experienced in so little time. I worry about how suffering will change him. Because, for better or for worse, it will change him. It already has.

My worst fear for him is not that he will never get his trach out, or that he won't be able to eat, or that he will aspirate, or bleed, or be made fun of, or anything temporal. My worst fear is that he will blame God.

Sometimes when we go through hard times, we feel like our expectations have not been met. We are right: they haven't. They can't be, at least not in this life, because we were created for Heaven. If every gray cloud has a silver lining, then likewise even the most silver of clouds will have gray. It's actually for our good that the world is this way; for to be satisfied with this life only would be a tragedy.

I don't know why God chose this little boy to be appointed to trials. I do know that He loves him even more than me, that He is jealous for him and that he belongs to Him. And I know that suffering alongside him makes me long for heaven more than I ever have - not only for myself, but also for him.

I wish I could say that I have it all together, that I have received some deep-seated spiritual insight that has helped me cast off all anxiety, that I have perfect peace about this upcoming surgery and move away from the only home our family has known. I don't. I know what surgery is like and it will be difficult. But I know that God is with us, and that He loves us, and that He will use it for good. To be at peace in the wilderness is not something that can come from me; it must come from Him. Please, God, help me to trust you and give our family strength in these coming days.

Isaiah 55:8-9
"For My thoughts are not your thoughts,
Nor are your ways My ways," says the Lord.
"For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
So are My ways higher than your ways,
And My thoughts than your thoughts."

Hebrews 11:8, "By faith Abraham, when he was called, obeyed... and he went out, not knowing where he was going."

On November 7, 2013, our home went up for sale. Four years to the day of Timothy's birth.

I remember clearly the day we moved in: a new marriage, a new child and another on the way, and finally, our first home. I had such excitement and anticipation as I imagined all the wonderful possibilities and joys we would experience in this new place as we established our home and family in the years to come.

But when Timothy was born, I felt like my naïve hopes for the perfect home had been strangled to death. I had barely set foot in a hospital other than to deliver my children, and had little familiarity with physical suffering. A "defective" baby did not fit into my schedule, structure, finances, or any other sphere of the life I wanted to build. But my Lord gently began to teach me that He, not I, is the master City Builder. I needed to understand the faith of Abraham the nomad, living in tents, who never built his own city, because he was "looking for the city... whose architect and builder is God."

In some ways, dreams of the future for our time on this earth are joyful and useful, but when one's life has been surrendered to the Lord, His path tends to take twists and turns that bring far greater contentment than our own ever could. As I go room by room through our home and sift through our belongings, the many memories, good and bad, overwhelm me as I reflect on how God has worked. After every hospital stay, this house has been our safe place, our refuge. We have hurt together, healed together, and grown in our knowledge of God. This has been the place we have come when we needed rest, refuge, and comfort. Through family, friends, and the body of Christ, God has shown His faithfulness in different ways in each room of this little house.

As I struggle through feelings of sadness, I must remember to set my heart not on a place, but a Person. I wonder if this is why God's Word shows Him constantly calling people away from their homes. I think of Abraham, Rebekah, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, Samuel, Daniel... and our ultimate example, Jesus, who left the only perfect home that ever has existed, Heaven itself, to make His sojourn on the earth.

By moving our family, God has prompted me to step back and see my life from the perspective of heaven. Possessions, places, and in certain ways, even people, pale in the light of Heaven. God wants us to travel light and set our hearts on a better place than this broken world. He wants us to follow Him wherever He leads. His promise to be with us wherever we go is all we need to keep our compass on track during the journey.

Soon we will begin the next chapter God has planned for us, making new memories in a new home. Like Abraham, I do not know where He will take us, but I know that He will be there.

Hebrews 11:13-16 "All these died in faith, without receiving the promises, but having seen them and having welcomed them from a distance, and having confessed that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For those who say such things make it clear that they are seeking a country of their own. And indeed if they had been thinking of that country from which they went out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; for He has prepared a city for them."