Today is my youngest son's birthday. He's seven years old. As I think back and recall the day he was born, I wonder and marvel about the monumentous events. He was born way too early at 28 weeks. When he was born he was a mere 1 pound 5 ounces.
The many months after his birth were filled with concerns, worries, prayers, fasting, anxiousness, anxiety, and...blessings. Some relationships happened that wouldn't have come about any other way.
Some bonds with others were strengthened. We were able to share beliefs and purpose with nurses, doctors, and specialists. We were able to get first-hand witness to miracles. Though some would like to characterize the numerous events surrounding the days when it was believed that our son would not live as credit to the skillfulness of doctors, we know it was something more. Something beyond. Something magnificient.
From time to time I will have my son sit on my lap and I show him the scars on his hands, wrists, arms, stomach, legs, and feet where he had IV's placed, PICC lines, or feeding tubes inserted. The sheer number of those scars are overwhelming, even on a now seven year-old body. It's hard to imagine how they looked on a tiny baby.
Those scars are now a symbol of a battle won. To us, those scars are beautiful. They remind us of all that he went through to live. They remind us of the pain we endured and made it through. They remind us that God was there for every one and wouldn't let go.
Dayna was there for the birth of her younger brother. She was not yet 13 years old at the time. When her brother came home from the hospital, it was her responsibility to take the 6 am feeding so that her mom would get some sleep, her dad could get ready for work, and her older brother and sister could go to seminary. She became skilled in mixing medications, giving nebulizer treatments, changing out cannulas, measuring oxygen saturation, and preparing high-calorie formula.
A former preemie at home became a family responsibility and each family member had to put their shoulder to the wheel. This brought our family closer. It was the pivotal event in my oldest daughter's life when she solidified her testimony. It was the one event that showed my oldest son the power of prayer. It helped our whole family realize that miracles not only happen, but they can live with you.
We all have scars from the event. And now we have scars from Dayna's sudden death. These scars are not usually seen by others. They aren't visible, but they are there. They are in the anxiety. They are in the minds of all of us. They are in the memories of the events unfolding that morning. They are in the unknown. And mostly, in the rememberances of the future that won't happen on earth.
Yet, our family has once again been brought together. It has become a pivotal moment in her younger brother's life that shows him how much God loves His children. It has shown us the strength and comfort of family and friends. It has helped our whole family realize that the Spirit is not only real, but that it can live with you.
When Christ awoke and rose from the tomb on that great Easter morning, one of the first things He did was show his scars. No longer were they a representation of what was done to Him. They became a symbol of victory.
Today I will again marvel at my son's scars and as he blows out the candles, it will be a testament to me that a victory was won and he beat the odds that were stacked against him. Then I will reflect on my own scars and know that they will one day hopefully be a symbol of victory.
Most of all, I will be forever grateful to my Savior, for His scars made it possible for us to be with our loved ones again someday. It is also through those scars that we are able to get through the pain of our own scars.
And He will never, never let go.
The many months after his birth were filled with concerns, worries, prayers, fasting, anxiousness, anxiety, and...blessings. Some relationships happened that wouldn't have come about any other way.
Some bonds with others were strengthened. We were able to share beliefs and purpose with nurses, doctors, and specialists. We were able to get first-hand witness to miracles. Though some would like to characterize the numerous events surrounding the days when it was believed that our son would not live as credit to the skillfulness of doctors, we know it was something more. Something beyond. Something magnificient.
From time to time I will have my son sit on my lap and I show him the scars on his hands, wrists, arms, stomach, legs, and feet where he had IV's placed, PICC lines, or feeding tubes inserted. The sheer number of those scars are overwhelming, even on a now seven year-old body. It's hard to imagine how they looked on a tiny baby.
Those scars are now a symbol of a battle won. To us, those scars are beautiful. They remind us of all that he went through to live. They remind us of the pain we endured and made it through. They remind us that God was there for every one and wouldn't let go.
Dayna was there for the birth of her younger brother. She was not yet 13 years old at the time. When her brother came home from the hospital, it was her responsibility to take the 6 am feeding so that her mom would get some sleep, her dad could get ready for work, and her older brother and sister could go to seminary. She became skilled in mixing medications, giving nebulizer treatments, changing out cannulas, measuring oxygen saturation, and preparing high-calorie formula.
A former preemie at home became a family responsibility and each family member had to put their shoulder to the wheel. This brought our family closer. It was the pivotal event in my oldest daughter's life when she solidified her testimony. It was the one event that showed my oldest son the power of prayer. It helped our whole family realize that miracles not only happen, but they can live with you.
We all have scars from the event. And now we have scars from Dayna's sudden death. These scars are not usually seen by others. They aren't visible, but they are there. They are in the anxiety. They are in the minds of all of us. They are in the memories of the events unfolding that morning. They are in the unknown. And mostly, in the rememberances of the future that won't happen on earth.
Yet, our family has once again been brought together. It has become a pivotal moment in her younger brother's life that shows him how much God loves His children. It has shown us the strength and comfort of family and friends. It has helped our whole family realize that the Spirit is not only real, but that it can live with you.
When Christ awoke and rose from the tomb on that great Easter morning, one of the first things He did was show his scars. No longer were they a representation of what was done to Him. They became a symbol of victory.
Today I will again marvel at my son's scars and as he blows out the candles, it will be a testament to me that a victory was won and he beat the odds that were stacked against him. Then I will reflect on my own scars and know that they will one day hopefully be a symbol of victory.
Most of all, I will be forever grateful to my Savior, for His scars made it possible for us to be with our loved ones again someday. It is also through those scars that we are able to get through the pain of our own scars.
And He will never, never let go.
I had a moment between classes and took the time to read over all the posts from this month. Tears swelled, memories were relived and I treasure each word that has been written. I am so sorry that I get too "busy" to really absorb the love that is spoken here. Thank you Charlene for your special gift of expressing feelings and memories. I love you and treasure yours & Lann's wonderful family. Happy birthday to Zayne today, hope he got his card. Love you, Mom
ReplyDeleteIt amazes me, the wonderful gift that families can be to see us through the mountains of our life's journey. When we turn to one another at the most difficult time, so much strength and character is forged. I can see that in your family.
ReplyDeleteIn your third to last paragraph, I was the most affected by your words. How very true about scars, seen or unseen, and how marvelous it is that the Savior rose above all of the hardships of life and made it possible for us to be victorious as well!
Happy Birthday to Zayne, who has been given God's gift of life and who has given us so much in return!
Joanne Moore