God's Servant

Philippians 2:5, 7: "Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus, who... made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant."

Tomorrow marks the one-year anniversary of Timothy's tracheostomy. Back when everything was new, I used tell myself that, by a year's time, I would be adjusted and no longer living in crisis. To some extent, this is true. But does it mean I don't feel a tug on my heart every time I see a healthy newborn? No. Does it mean I can hear another infant laugh or coo while my son remains silent, and not long to hear his voice? No. Does it mean I can watch a baby nurse while my son takes milk through a tube, and not cry later? No. Does it mean that everything is fine now? As much as I try to convince myself that it is - it is not.

It has been a year of stages - denial, panic, depression, acceptance, endurance. The chronic, heavy, sick feeling of the early hospital days has been replaced with a steady yoke of labor, busyness, and, often, fatigue.

During Timothy's recovery in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit, the comment was made to me, "What a calling God has given you." Never had I expected God's call on my life to involve caring for a baby with medical needs. I had trained as a classical musician and was sure that God's "calling" would be something much more exciting, interesting, fitted to my passions and pleasures, and aligned with my talents. I had no interest in medicine, no natural ability, and nothing to draw me to it other than the necessity to preserve my son's life. But why did I never expect that God might call me, His child, to a task that only He could accomplish (through me)?

It would be so easy for me to dwell on the things I have lost: my freedom, rest, free time, social life, normalcy (whatever that is). There is no way to explain the helpless feelings, the day-to-day toil, the frantic scrambling to keep up, the loneliness that inevitably results from meeting Timothy's needs around the clock. I have gotten used to the stares, questions, and uncomfortable silences in public, but it is the private times, the times that no one can share or understand, that are the hardest.

So what keeps me going? Right after Timothy was born, a friend wrote and gave to us an imaginary dialogue between Timothy and God. "Is it going to be OK God?" Timothy asks. "Well Timothy, right now you're a little young to understand, so let's just say that I've picked out someone real special to take care of you," He replies. God chose us to care for this child. Nothing else matters more than God's will. "Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven," we pray. Do we really mean it? When God's will is this clear, will we accept it and bear it with thankfulness, endurance, and joy? "In everything give thanks, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." I can be honest about the hard parts of caring for my son, but in the end I must die to my own selfish desires and live for Him whom I call Lord. I must fix my eyes on Jesus, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross. I can say nothing in comparison to His suffering.

And if Timothy could speak, what would he say? I believe he would thank us for putting him first, for not giving up on him. I believe he would encourage us to persevere, to trust and honor God, for in the end there will be a reward. So this is what we do. And I pray that someday Timothy, too, will praise the God who gave his parents the strength to do it.

Hold Fast to Jesus

Luke 2:35, "...and a sword will pierce even your own soul - to the end that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed."


Nothing rends a parent's heart more than to watch his child suffer. While our own trials may tempt us to doubt God, being a forced bystander to the inexorable affliction of a precious little one dares us to turn our backs on Him completely.

Some time ago I heard a woman speak of being imprisoned in a Romanian labor camp for her belief in Jesus. While there, she was forced to watch as her son was summoned and then ruthlessly beaten before her eyes. What do you think this mother said to her son at such a moment? "Hold fast to Jesus!" was her exhortation. What could cause a parent to utter such words, when that very same Jesus did nothing to stop the injustice? "Curse God and die," said Job's wife. Isn't this the logical reaction?

When Timothy is at his worst the Enemy asks if I, too, will curse God. When spiraling down in the face of his wager, the solid foundation on which I always land is the truth of Jesus' death and resurrection. If true, then I can believe all that He said: that no suffering (including Timothy's) will be wasted, that heaven awaits with joys unspeakable, that this life is but a breath compared to eternity to come; that I have been saved from God's just punishment of hell. If false, then I am in the company of Paul: "If we have hoped in Christ in this life only, we are of all men most to be pitied" 1 Corinthians 15:19.

So, why do I choose the path of faith? Not because God also had to watch His own son suffer; not because I have nowhere else to turn; not because God has brought beautiful, abundant fruit out of the ugliest and most sorrowful times of my own life. No, I continue to follow God because I believe He is true.

So herein is the test: do you believe Christ is God? History says He rose from the dead to prove it; do you believe it? If so, you must trust Him even when it seems unreasonable, even wrong. Yes, it is a gamble. I choose to place my chips on eternity, for the benefits of being right about Christ, as well as the risks of being wrong, are both far too great to ignore. And, when Timothy is old enough to understand, I, like the Romanian prisoner, will tell Timothy to hold fast to Jesus.

Where will you place your bet?

God's Gift

Psalm 127:3, "Behold, children are a gift of the Lord, The fruit of the womb is a reward."

Last night Timothy took his first real steps. It made me think of the past year and how far he has come. Then I realized that not only he, but all of us, are taking our first steps - wobbly, tentative, unsure, but full of earnestness and expectation - on this path God has chosen for us.

I remember the week we realized Timothy needed a g-tube. I was sitting helplessly in his room, holding him on my lap as he silently, furiously wailed. It was a culmination of several days - a bottle in my hand, trying again and again to feed a ravenous baby who refused to eat. Exhausted, broken, empty, I wept and cried out to God, thinking this must be what hell is like.

Since that moment the Lord has brought us from the valley of the shadow of death back to joy. Through those first steps last night, Timothy has symbolically conquered all the past year has brought him. Nothing can describe the feeling of watching that than pure, true, unadulterated delight.

Later that night I read about 17 other children who also had Timothy's same defect of lymphatic malformation. Unlike Timothy, these little ones received their diagnosis in utero. All 17 mothers chose to end their children's lives before birth. My joy turned to sorrow as I realized that they would never be given a chance to take their first steps, to overcome, to honor God and bring their parents joy.

When everything was new, I only saw Timothy's special needs; now that he is more familiar, I just see him. Finally, I understand why God says children are a blessing. Yes, they are a responsibility and sometimes even a burden. But through the gift of parenthood, God reveals a taste of what He feels for us as His own children. What a wonderful God He is to share this most blessed stewardship of raising His precious little ones! "Oh how deep are the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God!" Romans 11:33.

Delight

Psalm 40:8, "I delight to do Your will, Oh God..."

The other day someone asked me what happened with my music, and I found myself responding, "Sometimes God's plans are much less glamorous than our own but much more effective in making us like Christ." Often I am tempted to consider what my life "could have been" and must cast off bitterness because my "dreams" have been set aside and replaced with such a tedious and mundane calling (at least as far as the world sees).

They say when you have a special needs child you go through a grieving process for what could have been. They say the end of this process is acceptance. On the contrary, the end of this process for the Christian should be delight. God has revealed through circumstances and His word that His perfect will and plan for my life is to care for Timothy, Isaiah, and my husband (Titus 2:5). If I fail to delight in God's will, then I forfeit the joyful contentedness that comes only from the Lord Himself. Psalm 73:26, "My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." Would I have more joy making music "for the Lord" than suctioning trachs and giving tube feeds? If I cannot find joy in whatever circumstances I am, I have not found my contentedness in Christ. Philippians 4:11,13, "I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am... I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."

God is using Timothy to teach me to find my contentedness in Him and Him alone. More and more I see that I am Christ's servant, that my life is not my own. I am His instrument to bring Him glory. This means that, not only must I place my hope in heaven, I must also live each and every present moment with thankfulness and gratefulness. For our family, this has meant running a long, grueling race which tests us in our love, not only to bear all things, believe all things, hope all things, but especially to endure all things (1 Corinthians 13:7).

Jesus promised that whoever wants to be great must be the servant of all. Christ did not exempt Himself from humble, thankless service. His most important work on earth was shameful and agonizing. Am I willing to walk in the footsteps of He whom I call Lord and Master, with joy and delight? What glory this would bring Him, if others could see my joyful countenance in the midst of struggle, the only explanation of which would be the power of Christ Himself. God, please use Timothy to help me to honor you in this way.