Something about watching a baby, who would fit in the palm of your hand, cling to life... challenges me to continue, to press on, to push through. I know that as I hold these babies in my hands, that God holds us all. Calling work early Sunday morning, to tell them I couldn't be there... I had to recite those encouraging words, "I know the plans I have for you, and they are good." Tears flowed easily that morning and since. It seems that the nausea and pain in my stomach are increasing daily. Though days are harder, I believe that just as sure as God has a purpose for the very complicated and often painful beginnings that many of my precious patients face... that there is also purpose for the trials in my life. Climbing those mountains enables us to really appreciate the beauty of our surroundings, but you don't get to see that until you summit the top. Then suddenly the climb is worth it.
It's raining outside today, and as I write tears are raining down my face. I don't know what exactly I might have to endure physically, what effect surgeries or treatments or medications might have on my already weakened body. I do know that leaving my boys again, not being able to perform my role as a neonatal nurse, stirs emotion to deep to even recite.
"You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have." So even when it hurts, even when it's hard, even when everything seems to fall apart ... as I cough back the bile and flush the blood down the toilet, this zebra focuses on the most important thing ... He is Able, He alone is my Strength, my Shield. There is a reason and He makes all things good.
As I come to the corners of my life, I realize that though I can't see around them ... God can. Through love and sorrow, happiness and pain, I dare not forget whose child I am. So when it's dark and raining ... "this little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine." Remembering that after the rain comes the sun.
