It’s time

Baby E’s cardiologist took one look at her a week ago and said, “Yep. It’s time.” Her surgery is in two weeks.

I have a lot of vivid fears about her open-heart surgery that I won’t share here. If someone ever reads this who is going through a similar situation, I don’t want to be the one to put images in their head.

But I have to be honest – I’m scared. That’s my girl, you know. What she’s about to go through is no joke. Her heart is going to stop and that is unreal. A machine will pump her blood and make her breathe. And over four hours, a surgeon’s hands will fix her tiny heart.

Before all of this, if I’m being brutally honest again, I always thought it was a nice sentiment that God counts every tear we cry. Like, oh, that’s cute. That he knows how many hairs are on our head. That he knows every emotion and thought we have before we even feel it or think it. That he is an ever-present help in times of trouble.

Now I know it’s not cute and it’s not just a thought.

Thing is, no one else really totally and completely understands what you’re feeling or thinking besides Him. He’s the only one who does, and he’s also the only one who is both tender enough and strong enough to give us a deep sense of comfort and peace.

He isn’t afraid to sit down in our big emotions with us and let us feel what we need to feel. And somehow his presence and strength prevents us from being totally swallowed up by the power of those emotions.

Friends, you aren’t alone.

My girl isn’t alone, either.

You know some of the details, but her birth was quite traumatic. She almost died. It took them 20 minutes to stabilize her when she was born. I’ll spare you the nitty-gritty, but I had a really hard time with it all the first couple of months, and from time to time I still think about it and experience all of it again.

A few days after we got home from the NICU, I was reliving it all again. Playing it over and over. Do you ever do that? But then I got this image of Jesus being there every step of the way.

I saw him riding with us in the van as we raced to the hospital.
I saw him next to me in labor, holding my hand.
I saw him holding my baby girl in his hands as she was born.
I saw him standing calmly over her as the doctors and nurses worked to stabilize her.
I saw him with me, as I lay there under anesthesia, unaware of what was happening.
I saw him sitting next to my husband as he waited in the hallway.

He was there the whole time.

He still hasn’t left.

And when that surgeon’s hands are mending her heart, he will still be there. Right there with her.

Friends, whatever you’re going through, whatever you’ve been through: he’s there. Picture his presence as you relive what’s hurt you, what’s made you scared, what’s made you angry. It’s not a nice thought. It’s the truth.

He will never leave you. In fact, he’s been with you the whole time.