I am slightly flabbergasted that it is May already. It seems like just yesterday people were coming over to my house for a New Year's party. The days of accidentally writing "2014" are long gone. Loooong gone. Over and done, bae.
The past month has been pretty, shall we say, hectic. Turbulent. Rocky. Bumpy. Or perhaps a better way to describe it would be getting sealed inside an old creaky rodeo barrel with no padding, seat-belts, air-bags, or saddle-horns to hold onto while getting pushed off the side of Badger mountain and meeting your fate of tumbleweeds, rattlers, and wild bison herds that are racing towards you as you tumble along (you can tell who lives in Tri-Cities, can't you :). It's like my childhood terrors of Mufasa's death came true metaphorically in my emotional life. Traumatizing.
While the above scenario may have been slightly dramatized (what can I say? I've been hanging out with the theater kids :), it really has been a rough couple weeks.
It all started right before spring break. My mom and I had literally just gotten back from visiting Trinity Western in Canada. Finals week was about to begin, and I was getting ready to gear up for my last exams before winter quarter ended.
We'd literally been home about twenty minutes when my mom got a phone call informing her that there was ambulance at her parent's house. My grandma had contracted a bacterial infection, and with her body in bad shape from her breathing difficulties, it was too much for her. She temporarily died that night. They revived her, but she had severe brain damage. They life-flighted her to Tri-Cities, where a ventilator was keeping her alive.
She was alive for five days after that.
The first time I saw her while she was in the hospital, she was having uncontrollable seizures. I wasn't expecting to get emotional, but I just cried and cried. At that point, I realized that I would never again watch her eyes light up when she ran over to give me a hug or listen to her slight southern drawl as she told me about her childhood.
I was there when they took the ventilator out. There was a whole room full of people gathered around to say goodbye to her. The doctors thought she would pass immediately, but she held on. It wasn't until she was in my grandpa's arms that she finally let go and went to be with Jesus.
The grandkids sang for the funeral. It was beautiful, everything she would've wanted. Thankfully, I had already requested spring break off work long before any of this had happened. It was total blessing because I could fully devote my time to my family and the funeral without a worry.
Well, actually, I was worried, just not about my job. Around this same time, my nephew had been having some severe health problems. My sister was breastfeeding, but because she is pregnant, her milk supply was inadequate nutrition, but my nephew wouldn't take a bottle. My sister and brother-in-law were in town for the funeral, and the night before they left, there was talk of potential IV intervention because his fluid levels were dangerously low.
They began feeding him through a syringe, and within a few days even, he was on the road back to health. Elizabeth and I went up that weekend to stay with the Vander Veens, and he was doing so much better. I took him on many walks and got to spend Easter with them, thankful for the recovery taking place before my very eyes.
Even though Caleb is eating more, he's also been teething and sick. There has been little to no sleep at the Vander Veen house for quite some time, with everything that's been going on. It's been so hard being far away from my sister, wanting to help out somehow or just be there for her.
Less than a week after that, I got word that my dear friend Gabbie Rehder was on her way to the Spokane hospital for congestive heart failure. I was distraught. I didn't even know what to pray. Again, I felt that ache to be near, to comfort her or do something, anything. I ended up going to visit her in Spokane on Divine Mercy Sunday. I was so blessed to spend an hour with her, praying, laughing, and making jokes about the nurse named "Fabio" (well, at least, that's what I named him). The same girl that surprised me for my 18th birthday was now laying a hospital bed. That's how you know a friendship is real- You can laugh together, but you can sure as heck snot cry together. And sometimes you do both at the same time.
A little while after that, I got the text during a tech rehearsal that Gabbie was waiting for a heart transplant. I had prayed that Jesus give her a new heart- I didn't know at the time that I wasn't just praying metaphorically. God took my prayer literally. I was bawling backstage when I heard the news. The people at ACT were so loving to me. There was one young man who just hugged me for what seemed like forever. I didn't even know his last name at the time, but I didn't need to know that to know that he cared.
We are still waiting and praying for news about Gabbie. She is scheduled for a Ventricular bipass pacemaker surgery, which will hopefully cancel out the need for the heart transplant. Prayers for the Rehder family would be greatly appreciated.
For me, especially the past few weeks, the hardest part about life has been that is doesn't stop. If you try to stop it, it goes on without you. I still have to do homework, go to classes, work, and attempt to keep my mess out of my family's way at home. I still have to plan for graduation, prom, summer, and next school year. I still have to deal with my stomach aches, my reproductive issues, my sleep deprivation, and my array of emotional problems. Life just keeps going.
And you know what? My mom didn't just die. My son isn't starving. I'm not in a hospital right now.
With that perspective, I realize that life doesn't need to stop for me to get my act together. If it did, I might not ever get started again. Maybe I would just wallow in self-pity forever. It could happen.
We all struggle. We all have bad days, bad months, sometimes even bad years. But you know what else? In the grand scheme of things, what can we say about our lives? Our testimony just becomes more powerful with every trial.
I know what I can say about Gabbie. Her courage is remarkable. Her testimony is powerful. Why? Because she was faced with unimaginable challenges and she conquered. She endured.
Lord, may each and every one of us become a living testimony to Your grace. For if we can bring others into the hope of Your eternity, every trial and pain will be given for a greater cause than can be inhibited by suffered. May we overcome through the blood of the Lamb and the word of our testimony.
Yes, indeed. We shall overcome.
