A Season

It’s a word I never thought would be associated with my family.  It’s an ugly word.  So ugly I can’t even type it, because I refuse to give it weight.  And even though its effects are a reality, that word does not define my mom, my family, or our story.  We live under one identity- we were bought by the precious blood of Jesus Christ.  We are His, and He will see us through this and all glory will fall at His feet.  There’s been a quiet strength and peace about my mom over the last few weeks.  Quite opposite of the boisterous cough that never quits.  While I was praying for it to be a minor cold, she was preparing for the season ahead.  Over and over again she tells me, “He can heal me, and if He hasn’t, there’s something for us in it”.  Oh how her wisdom both strengthens and breaks me simultaneously.  She knows that Jesus ordains everything and is Sovereign over every detail- beginning to end of this season.  Where words fail me, her wisdom day in and day out fuels me.  We refuse to be defined by a diagnosis.  Instead we ask, “Lord, how will You be glorified?”  While imprisoned, Paul courageously used his chains to minister to his guard and used even that seemingly impossible situation to testify to the glory of God.  We will face this season in confidence that He is with us in this battle and has already won the war against sin and death.  

I write each of these words through tears.  Tears so large they blur the screen in front of me.  Fear tries to creep its way into every crevice of doubt, and yet, I choose faithfully in each moment to believe that He is who He says He is and He’ll do what He says He’ll do.  My mom is my very best friend and is probably the best friend this world has ever known.  She’s been every example of beauty- inside & out- grace, patience, faithfulness, wisdom, strength, kindness, and so much more.  I know that even in this season I will learn from her, because that’s who she is.  That is why it’s so fitting that she’s come into this job as a teacher, shaping the hearts and minds of children to know and love Jesus just by who she is.  I believe she has a season to come.  A season to dance with me at my wedding- even if she hates dancing.  A season to spoil and be the best grandmother there ever was.  A season to laugh and forget pain.  I know Jesus will bring us all through it, and she will live to tell of His goodness in the midst.

About a week before the bronchoscopy, I heard the song “Seasons” by Hillsong.  It both broke me and emboldened me to believe in the endurance of Isaiah 40:27-31, Hebrews 12:1, and Romans 5.  The bridge in particular drives my heart to keep full assurance on the promises to come.  “If all I know of harvest is that it’s worth my patience.  Then if You’re not done working, God, I’m not done waiting.”  The Truth is: He’s always working.  In every season.  In every moment.  In every second.  So Lord, we will wait.  We will wait to see all that you teach us in this seemingly impossible season in front of us.  We will wait with expectancy for my mom’s health to be restored.  We will wait fervently for a new season of utter joy and celebration.  But ultimately, we wait on Your Return, where Heaven is restored to earth and the pains of this world are no more.

My mom and I call ourselves “two bodies, one brain”, and if you spend about five minutes with us, you’ll understand why.  So in this next season, while her body battles, our minds will maintain fixed on the Sovereign Power of our Father.

Finally, to the greatest friends in the world- thank you doesn’t seem nearly enough.  I believe in God’s faithfulness, because each of you is a unique answer to countless past prayers.  I am so humbled by your willingness to serve me and my family so kindly with every text, every phone call, every offer to provide meals, gifts, but mostly, each and every one of your prayers.  Thank you for falling on your knees united in this fight.  Thank you for passing each request beyond your hands and into the hearts of prayer warriors around the nation.  The way you serve me is such a picture of Christ’s love for his children, and it strengthens me more than I can express.  I love each and every one of you so dearly.

xox

 

ellie

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8