we are not as strong as we think we are...

*****Spoiler alert -- this one's a little heavy.  If you're looking for cute pictures of children and the awesomeness that innocence and untainted joy can bring to life, also a staple here on this blog, come back tomorrow.  No judgment whatsoever. ******

At times, our family's life seems like it can be reflected by our music and what is speaking to our hearts.

Three years ago, when the tidal wave that was Jael's arrival swept over us, we clung to the album Morning Rises by Aaron Shust, with the artist's story so much like our own in unexpectedly welcoming a medically complex child into the world and tracks like God of Brilliant Lights , which reminded us that the waves were not just of pain, anxiousness, and uncertainty, but also of mercy, hope and love:

Let the sound of the saints
Everywhere be heard
Praise the God who has come
To cure every broken heart

He is lord over all
His reign will never end
Through the fire and the flood
He draws His children in
He's the light of the world
Brighter than the brightest star

The God of brilliant lights
Is shining down over us
Breaking through the darkness
Covering all the earth
Oooh, His love is like an ocean
Oooh, forever overflowing
The God of brilliant lights is shining over us

When the days were so overwhelming that we would collapse our emotionally raw sprits and exhausted bodies down onto the couch at night after getting all the children (temporarily, at least) to bed, sometimes we would just lay there and listen to the embedded truth in The One, an anthem to the faithfulness of God in the places unseen and unfelt.  It didn't always feel like much, but it was always enough-- just enough to pull ourselves up for one more morning and face the next dreary day:

The day is dark and I can't see
The path I'm on or what's in front of me
But I will stand on this I know
You will never let me go

For the one who holds tomorrow
Holds me in His hand
And I will not fear the future
I'll trust the Great I Am
Who has been and always will be
Reigning on His throne
For the One who holds me in His hand
Is the One who holds it all

Though the world shall fade away
And the sky may even fall
You are strong enough to save
You're the one who holds
Every heart that is afraid
You hear our desperate call
You are strong enough to save
You're the One who holds it all...

Two years ago, as life mellowed, Rend Collective and their reminders of life lived in community permeated us as we were blessed deeply by friends willing to invest in us with no promise of return--friends who gave generously of their time and energy and came alongside as we slowly recovered from the tumult that had been the first year of Jael's life.  Daily we saw our dreams that we had left at the foot of the cross years ago reanimated and given back, and we were even able to share Jael's story on Easter Sunday 2016, which was an amazing reminder to myself, at least, that the pain and anguish we had left at Jesus' feet might be healing to others.  The lyrics to You Will Never Run captured our story at that time:

Love stronger than the grave
Love rolled the stone away
Rising with endless majesty
Love takes us by the hand
Love is the wildest dance
You are the joy and fight in me
You are the joy and fight in me

It is tempting to think that we had something to do with the fact that, slowly, healing was happening and we were overcoming the circumstances dealt us.  In fact, it had nothing to do with us, made pitifully clear by our latest round of what the apostle Paul would call 'light and momentary troubles,' but seem far weightier when viewed from a front-row seat.  (**whining alert!***)  Over the past couple of months, we have walked through the death of a dear father (in-law) and grandfather, which has uprooted our routine and school schedule, suffered through multiple rounds of the stomach bug in Rachel's absence (I am the world's worst parent with illness -- those poor kids!), had a freak back injury leave me sidelined from work for going on 5 weeks now, with the side issue of documentation holding up any extended absence payments from disability insurance and the added benefit of Eeyore (that's yours truly) spreading 'cheer' at home at all times, since I don't really have anywhere else to go and probably couldn't walk there even if I did, while having to worry if I will recover in time to be able to do side work through the summer, which is the primary way we make it financially on a year-to-year basis.  Oh, and we've found multiple instances of drug paraphernalia in or around our yard, and this Sunday finally culminated with not one, but two instances in the afternoon of the police handcuffing and leading off resident(s) across the street for possession  (all the while we are trying to keep the kids from running outside to help out with the ambulance and say hi to the police officers).

In short, we've had better weeks and months. To quote Rich Mullins, 'we are not as strong as we think we are... we are frail -- we are fearfully and wonderfully made -- forged in the fire of human passions -- choking on the fumes of selfish rage...' 

But what we aren't is alone.  We are struck down, but not destroyed.  I am disabled, hopefully merely as a temporary reminder of this earthly body's impermanent tenure, but not separated from the love of God. We firmly expect and believe that, though we don't know how, God will stay with us moment by moment, day by day, providing for us both physically and emotionally, bringing comfort to Rachel, stability to our home and children, and renew a sense of purpose and (new?) direction for myself.  We may need to lament (deeply) the dreams that once again we need to lay down, never knowing if they will be burned as impurities in the Refiner's fire or shown to be gold that will be returned when we least expect it. Whatever the days ahead may bring, I will steal the poetic refrain from Rich Mullins one more time:

Surrender don't come natural to me
I'd rather fight you for something
I don't really want
Than to take what you give that I need
And I've beat my head against so many walls
Now I'm falling down, I'm falling on my knees

And the Salvation Army band is playing this hymn
And Your grace rings out so deep
It makes my resistance seem so thin

So hold me Jesus,
Cause I'm shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory
Won't You be my Prince of Peace

Sometimes to be remade in glory, we need to be torn down first.  I'll keep you posted -- in the meantime, some vacation stories and photos (try going on vacation in the mountains when you can't walk sometime) of beautiful children in Eden-like creation tomorrow.