Reflecting God

20954082_1715154705179447_5369539808229219906_nMost of the time the surface of the lake is choppy, restless from the wake of vacationers or from the pressing wind stirring the waters just enough that it seems as if its shell has been shattered. It appears dark and even murky in spots as it constantly turned over by the activities of the day. The sky is a stark contrast in its heavenly shades of blue separated with great distinction from the waters below.

But sometimes, if you are willing to wake before the rest of the world. When the only sound is the hush of the forest and a few lone birds greeting the morning sun. The lake is calm, and peaceful and so perfectly reflects the sky that you are almost unsure of where one begins as the other ends.

I find that I must find that time. The time when the world has gone silent and I am able to be alone with my creator. This is the only way that I can remember who’s image I was made to bear, when the toils of life make the waters murky and broken. I must find a time to be still. To hear the whisper of His song for me so that I can rest assured that these very things that stir me on the surface are helping to bring about the next wave of glory.

2 Corinthians 3:18 But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory

Lord let my life so perfectly reflect your glorious face that no matter what trial or storm comes my way and disturbs the waters in my life, I can stand on the promise that I am being transformed from glory to glory. Let Your image never be separated from my words, thoughts and actions and let my beginnings and endings reflect you so perfectly that you receive the glory.

I see you.

18423024_1608624089165843_7886196313578084866_oDear mom,
I see you.

I saw you the day you first noticed something. Something that made your child seem different, that something that didn’t line up with the development books. I saw you on the phone with the doctors who assured you things were alright. I saw you continue to press on, trusting your gut, full of worry, remaining optimistic.

I saw you the day someone spoke the words that took your breathe away, the day you were certain that the world stopped turning. The day when dreams of the future and well thought out wedding fantasies were shattered with words like “life expectancy” and “quality of life.”

I saw the tears pouring down your face each time you mourned what your child had lost. I saw the way your eyes watered when you held your child close, trying to memorize every detail hoping to lock away the way their soft skin felt and the sound of their breathe in your heart forever.

I saw you the nights where you jumped out of bed at the sound of the seizures. When you sat though the crying episodes praying for relief, hoping the next stop was not the hospital.

I saw you the times you felt too exhausted to carry on. The times you were certain you could not fight anymore, but you got up again.

I want you to know, I see you. I see you love unconditionally and unselfishly receiving nothing in return. I see the sleepless nights and the showerless days. I see the hours of research, the countless phone calls and the barrage of paperwork.

I see you. And for all of the days when you feel like you can no longer carryon, the times you are certain that I had made a mistake choosing you to love and advocate for your child. I want you to remember, I see you.

I don’t make mistakes. I made you for this.

I made you incapable on your own strength but completely dependent on mine. I made you to show the world what strength through great pain can look like. I made you to give a voice to the voiceless. I made you to share with the world that every life is priceless and can bring me glory. I made you to love me and love others.

I see you. I see all of you.

I made you for this.


Your Father
The King of Kings
The creator of heaven and earth

That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
2 Corinthians 12:10

Just far enough

Just far enough

I can hardly believe school is starting tomorrow. This year I have three in school with my oldest, Blake, starting middle school, Elena will be in 4th grade and Evelyn will be starting 4K. Truett will get to enjoy some one on one mommy time.

We brought Elena in to meet her teacher the other day and as we walked down the hall she was just beaming. Her face lit up the entire time we were there. She loves school!

Elena splits her time in the special ed and 4th grade classroom about 50/50. When she is at school the kids love her. Many of them who have been with her for years understand how she communicates and patiently wait for her eyebrow raise for yes. They have to put their names in a bin and draw one name to be Elena’s helper for the day so that everyone gets a turn. Other wise it was hard on Elena to choose. Often a few little girls choose to stay in on recess to read or play with Elena. They see Elena like we do. The compassion and care they show often brings me to tears.

Can you believe that there was a time that we didn’t feel that school was a best option for Elena? Her health is too compromised. She gets sick so easy. Every cold leads to pneumonia. She’ll be exposed to germs. Kids can be mean. Will she even benefit from being there?

All of these fears are out there and very real. But the benefit of seeing my sweet girl light up being around her classmates far out weighs all of those worries. The joy that I feel knowing that there is a group of students who don’t fear others who look different and know that all because you are non verbal doesn’t mean you have nothing to offer is priceless. May their hearts never change.

I am so grateful for her teachers and therapists that held our hand every step of the way. Continually pushing us just slightly out of our comfort zones. Seeing the things that we could not. Believing and striving for things that we had no idea were possible.

So to every teacher or therapist or paraprofessional who has ever believed in what appeared to be impossible–Thank You! Thank you for pushing us just far enough. Thank you for valuing my input and role as a parent. And thank you for seeing my child for all that they are and more!

Know that you are valued and that I have and will be praying for you this year. Please continue to expect great things!