04 February 2012
Last night I scrolled through Facebook and watched a video of my friends' baby. He was born with Spina bifida. He is 8.5 mo. old and has just had his 11th surgery. I've had two. One was a pretty traumatizing experience. I don't remember the other one. 11.
In the video Mac was lifting his arms, strapped to what seemed a thousand cords, machinery helping him and medicating him. At the onset I was thrilled to see him, smile on my face....and then that look spread across his face. Desperation? Pain? Dare I label? And he began to cry. A different cry, altogether from my son not wanting to eat his dinner, or wanting out of his crib after a nap. Altogether different.
"Don't cry..." his Mama softly whispered, rubbing his arm to try to soothe. What was apparent is that she had done this before. This is what the Campbells are living right now.
I sat right there at my computer and sobbed. Went up to my room and sobbed some more. I didn't have any words. I lifted my hands to heaven and wept. I knew the Holy Spirit was speaking for me. I don't think I've ever experienced anything like it before. There seemed to be no comfort coming and the sobs flowed from deeper within. Then He spoke to me. To my spirit. No, not audibly (for the cynics).
The bluest eyes from the Divine.
A simple smile in the hardest time.
Like a lone flower in a sea of cold white,
We all stretch for you to touch His robe,
We all pray for you, with steadfast hope.
We sometimes cry when words fail,
Lifting our hands to the sky,
Remembering the torn veil,
"Oh, Jesus lift up this little one,
Our hands are weak,
Our ways are undone,
Master Healer, not our last resort,
Master Healer, our only source."
Little one, you teach me that we ALL are vulnerable.
From cradle to grave, no ailment but the death we're under.
You have reached us here, out of our hands
Our methods ARE wasted,
Our tools can not bend.
His destination, our God has carried us to.
We travel new found roads,
Fixed upon your eyes of blue.
I am reminded, I too, am in His hands.
Though I walk, and yes, I stand.
Dearest one, no better off than you.
Could neither of us be better, ever,
Carried in His hand.
I have to believe this, little one.
Else my tears would fail,
Burning darker and deeper wells.
Doubt would slay me for your sake, sure,
But I am reminded of the life He endured.
Baby, with the eyes of blue,
Love has spanned the gap, it's true.
His hand extended, Who created you,
He loves your eyes of blue,
as I do.
You can read about Mac here.