Nomi is doing fantastic. She sang happy birthday to herself at her birthday party last month. We have been released by all doctors except for the lead doctor at the children’s hospital where she had rehab. She can walk. She can talk. She is starting to run, chasing after the boys as they play football, even tackling them and rolling in the grass. She gets little bits and peices of sticks and grass in her curls. I cannot express the feelings I have whenever she wants to talk to me when we snuggle on the couch. I feel like a man sitting in susnshine, two years after being told the sun was gone. She smiles at me sometimes with her patented grin (she ALWAYS has a smile for people she meets, even if for the first time), and I feel like I’ve woken from a dream that was cold and dark. We tell her story when asked. We tell her story sometimes when not asked. We share her testimony. She shares her testimony. I still have questions about what now, but all we can do is keep walking forward, into the bright light of an unknown horizon, laughing and loving all the while. Her situation has taught me more about faith than I can accurately relate. She has lived, and is still recovering. We have seen other miracles too. Friends of Nomi’s have beaten unbeatable cancer. Overcome unbeatable birth defects.
Others we know and have shared with have not. This also is a lesson of faith… one harder to grip than the unimaginable joy I feel when I see her sleeping, chest rising, and falling, and rising again. I have seen that sometimes faith is being able to carry on when what we want doesn’t come to pass. The possibility of someone we love being lost to us is real. And yet Jesus is the only refuge that keeps us sane. In my mind, that is a faith that not only moves a mountains, but turns them into piles of sand. It’s a place where a heart broken over the loss of love turns to Jesus, and collapses into His embrace seeking only refuge. I often wonder how people that don’t know that embrace even survive.
Healing. It’s where God is. It’s what He does. It’s in Him, but it’s not always what we think. I think back to all the children we have met, but are with Jesus now, and I wonder about them. I wonder about their parents. I wonder about how they can keep on. I can only imagine that it’s by faith. I’m still finding faith, and learning that it is always more than I can understand today, but never more that I can understand tomorrow.
Chasing hope, chasing faith, chasing God will ensure that.