This one has been a long time coming. This blog has been torn straight from my heart…straight from my soul. I love to write and I write about semi-personal things. However, I have had this story on my heart since the day I started this blog. Now, now is the time.
As many of you may know our family has been through some rocky times. When I was in eighth grade my mom started getting sick. She and my dad visited the Mayo Clinic multiple times to figure out what was wrong with no luck. After numerous hospital visits, tests, possible diagnoses, and doctors she was diagnosed with something called NASH (non-alcoholic steato hepatitis). Which basically meant her liver was failing and for no apparent reason. She had none of the characteristics that a person typically diagnosed with this has. She had to stop teaching and was basically confined to our house and bed my whole high school career.
She suffered. We suffered. It was the single hardest thing I have ever faced. There were many times I questioned why my mom? Why us? What did we do? We had always went to church. We had always believed and trusted in God. So…why was this happening? My parents did a pretty good job of keeping my little sister and I sheltered from the worst of it. But sometimes, we peeked through the cracks and we saw the worst. In those times of weakness, sadness, worry, doubt, and death, HE was there.
He was there every time I saw my dad open his Bible to read. He was there in my Aunt’s unwavering faith. He was there when my mom and aunt habitually took the Lord’s supper. He was there in the form of a man that would end up being my husband. He was there in my grandmother’s prayers and my sisters’ tears. He was there in my mom’s strength. He was there when bills were paid. He was there in each meal or card we received. I remember finding verses on healing in the Bible and posting them all over our house. On the doors, in my mom’s room and her bathroom…everywhere. I would declare and pray the verses aloud every time I saw them. He was very much there.
She spent many many nights in the hospital. She was on a list to receive a transplant. She was called once around Christmas. However, she was too sick to undergo the transplant. We kept praying and believing…even when it looked impossible.
Three months later we receive another call…at night (because for some reason these things don’t happen during the day). It was my dad’s birthday. I called my boyfriend (my hubs now) he was in Detroit interning at General Motors. He told me he would be on the first flight he could catch. I remember walking downstairs cautiously excited. My dad was in the living room getting things organized. I remember asking him “how do you know this is going to work? it will probably be bad again!” His reply, I will remember all my life…”Let’s pray”. Right there, in the middle of our living room, my little sister and I joined hands with my parents as my dad led us in the most powerful prayer I have ever heard. A few hours later…well a lot of hours later, my mom had a new liver.
Weak made strong; in the Savior’s love
Through the storm, He is Lord
Lord of allAnd then he spoke to my heart. He asked me why I trusted him with my mom but I couldn’t trust him with my own personal struggles. Why do I keep picking up those struggles up seconds after laying them at his feet? Then I thought about the lyrics…Through the storm HE IS LORD.
He is the God who made the Universe. He is the God who hung the stars. He is the God who knew us before we were born. So, why can’t I trust this awesome God with something so small? Because, instead of letting go and letting God, I tried to control the problem. You see, with my mom, I had no control. I HAD to give it to him. With big things in my life I have no control. But with little things I think I have control. In my own arrogance I decide to help God.
God doesn’t need our help. Whatever you are going through…know that our God’s grace is sufficient. If he can hang stars and form the mountains and heal my mom, he can take care of whatever you are facing. Let go, and Let God.
My sweet Jesus healed my mom. I am SO thankful he did. Because without his perfect blood, I wouldn’t have these moments.
Hot Mess Mom 