SPOILER WARNING: READ THE GRACE BY WHICH WE STAND (BY WENDY DUKE) BEFORE READING FURTHER.
I just finished reading a book about a little girl, Savannah Duke. I know the girl as an acquaintance because I attend her parents' Sunday school class during the school semesters. Savannah has a very special story. While in utero, doctors found through an ultrasound that she only had one leg. As you can imagine, this was horrifying news to her parents who had fought many awful battles trying to get pregnant. I can't tell the story like her mother, Wendy, does, but I want to reflect on the love story God has written thus far.
During an amniocentesis, Savannah's fetal hand reached up and grabbed the shaft of the needle. God speaks His awesome power through an unborn child on a tv screen.
Upon Savannah's birth, doctors discover a tumor is the cause of her underdeveloped limb. After a hopeful period, doctors determine the tumor is malignant. A baby with cancer- before she was even born. Following chapters detail heartbreaking disappointments, torturous hospital visits, and a mom who is losing the battle. Several times she speaks of collapsing into her husband's arms and weeping. She talks about him giving injections to their daughter when she couldn't. Her husband prayed when she was curled up so tightly in her defense that she did not know how to trust this God that she had proclaimed for years. God speaks His sensitive strength through a heartbroken husband.
Crushing blow after crushing blow, the year and a half after Savannah's birth contained a few glimmers of hope that were quickly followed by seemingly endless tragedies. Mom is fiercely protective of her angel. Mom is dying inside. God sends people- lots of people. Organizations and individuals hold fundraisers that bring at least $30,000 (if i kept count correctly) to the Dukes' doorsteps. Three months of a calendar is filled with people scheduled to provide their meals. A fellow mom of a young cancer patient takes from her own fund to give to Wendy. People who don't even know this family sacrifice more than money to help a little girl. God sings His beautiful lullaby over a drowning family through people unaware of their own impact.
I cry with every episode of Wendy's desperation. "Where is God?" she cries to her husband is a moment filled with darkness. She is struck in the face with her own inability to save her precious offspring. A horrific reality I can't imagine. Even when she stubbornly blocks Him out, she says, He was still following her waiting for her to turn to Him. I wish I could put into words what this picture does to my heart. I have faced horrible events. I have clung to Him for life even when I didn't want to live anymore. I have never faced losing a child, but I feel my heart ring with the genuine pain and desperation in her written word. There are dark, dark moments when only God is there. Wendy surrendered her will in a hospital, after walking out on a doctor's report I believe. She fell on her knees. She wept. She gave up. She stopped trying. She let go. She had pulled away from Jesus trying to deal with her pain. He was right there, she knew. She says she high-fived Him in the good times and doubted Him in the bad. But not anymore. She trusted Him. She said "You can have it all, but I need you to help me." God speaks His pursuit through a suffering,stubborn mom.
He loves us. so much. It's overwhelming. It the worst circumstances imaginable, He is there. At the climax of pain, He is beside us asking us to trust Him. I have been wanting to experience more of His love. I feel like dirt saying "God, could you show me your love?" Ironic, since i was made from dirt. I would think this. Then, i would think "Look at the cross, you idiot. What more of a love display do you want?". Apathy is a disgusting thing. I hate it. It's like accidentally walking through a spider web. You didn't see it coming. Then all of a sudden "Ah! Ew! Get off!". You pick at it and vigorously wipe your arms, but you can still feel it there. You can't do anything to get rid of it completely. I have been asking to be consumed by His love. " I know that you love me more than anyone ever could, but I want to know it more." Hence the name of this blog- "Jesus, I want to rest in your romance." My closest moments with God have been the ones where I was in the most pain or in the most different situation. Please don't misunderstand- I seek God in good times too. There is just something awesome about a moment when you have nothing but God. When everything else is removed..
These thoughts take me back to Lili. Lili Bryson. She was the step-mother of my boyfriend at the time. She was beautiful. She was God's love. She was joy. She was kindness. She spoke truth to me when I was clouded by darkness. She was a light in my life. We were very close, and I cherish every memory I have with her. She had a son, named Christian, who is very near to my heart. I babysat Christian a lot. Some of my funniest memories with Lili are late nights when she would return from a business dinner with Mr. Bryson and all "those snobby people." We would laugh at how uncomfortable she was and how she would rather be anywhere else. I loved Lili very much. She was always light.
December of 2007, my family was at the Brysons' house. Their family was going to visit Mr. Bryson's parents in SC. Then Mr. Bryson, his dad, and Blake (bf at the time) were going to spend the holidays in Australia. Lili and Christian would spend Christmas with Lili's parents in Mexico. I remember the day very clearly. I sat in the floor with Blake and Christian looking at a gingerbread house they made before we all said goodbye. When we were getting ready to leave, I had a very urgent feeling come over me. I remember feeling almost worried about something. I felt very emotional very quickly-something was wrong. Nevertheless, I tried to ignore it and not be ruled by emotions. I hugged Lili, for an extra long time for some reason, and told her I loved her. I said "I'll miss you." We all said our goodbyes. I got in the car, choked up for some invisible reason. That would be the last time I saw Lili.
Lili had planned to have some medical procedures in Mexico. Few knew about the plans. Medical care is indeed better here, but that's her home, so she felt more comfortable there. Lili got an infection from the procedure. All this being around New Years, I was at a retreat with a friend's church, unaware of the circumstances. When i got home, my friend Katelyn called me and said "Hey, I was wondering if you had any more news on Lili? I can't get much info." Of course, I had no idea what she was talking about. She told me the few details she knew. I immediately emailed Blake in Australia. They also were unaware of the situation.
I know this was a perfect situation to cling to hope. But this was different. I knew she was going to die. I remember sitting in bed and just knowing. I wasn't being negative or hysterical. I knew that was God's will. I remember sobbing and saying "Ok. Father, if this is your will, then take her. But please please bring us through it." I wish I could say that the next couple of days were filled with His peace. It wasn't exactly like that. Calls to and from Mexico. Emails to and from Australia. It was a confusing and desperate attempt to get information to the right places. Bless my mom's heart-she tried to get me out of the house. She told me to pray. She said not to drown in possibilities. But I knew. I felt God holding my hand in a black time in my life.
Mr. Bryson got the soonest flight to Mexico. It wasn't soon enough. I woke up one morning, January 3rd, to a text message from my friend Carina. Her mom had been in touch with the hospital in Mexico. Lili had passed that morning. Her body could not handle the infection. Just like that. An early thirties beauty- gone. A 3 year old son without a mother. I went into the kitchen to tell my mom. I just said "Lili" and cried. The pain of finality hit hard. The days run together after that. I remember crying on the phone to a friend who called to offer some encouragement. I got out of bed and showered, trying to wash off the pain. I barely got dressed before I collapsed in the floor sobbing and gagging. My parents rushed in the bathroom. I remember my dad picking me up. I don't remember anything after that. I was at the end of myself. My very existence was battling an assassin. The following days were agonizing- my own pain, knowing Blake and his family were hurting but not being able to get to them.
Blake called on their way back to NC. He wanted me to get all of Lili's things out of the house. Me? I did not want to do it, but at the same time I could not stand the thought of someone else going through her things. Helped by Mom and a friend, we packed away her things. We laughed at Lili's collections of one shirt style in many different colors. Giggled at the shoes I know she never wore. Finishing up for the night, I found her Bible on a shelf. Inscribed on the front was her name and her life verse- Jer. 29:11- which also happened to be my life verse. I didn't know we shared that. I opened the front cover. There was a single sheet a white paper. Hand-written in Spanish. I began to translate aloud, "My name is Lili Diaz Bryson or Lili Bryson in the US. I was saved at 6 years of age in Iglesia Bautista Buena Vista..." Her testimony tucked away in her Bible. A beautiful treasure, scribed for my finding. I felt God right there. He said "I'm right here. It's ok." I don't know why I opened her Bible, but I'm glad I did. I have a copy of it. I plan to keep it forever. It's a piece of her heart. It is a priceless treasure to me.
Finally, they came home. The people my heart had so longed for- but now in their presence I had nothing to say. I didn't know what to do. Blake and I hugged. Without words, i felt our hearts press together, beating with a similar pain. I began trying to find my place in this now all male family. It was not the same anymore. I tried to help them as best I could. I did laundry. I sorted mail, separating things addressed to Lili. But I felt like dying when Christian cried and prayed for mommy to wake up. Innocent heart. I would pick him up from school sometimes. I remember walking with him through a grocery store. I don't remember the surrounding conversation, but heaven came up. He said "Ms. Mamel, that's where my mommy is now." I responded with a smiling "That's right baby. She is." but my heart was anything but smiling. I would practice Spanish with him while taking him home. I knew Lili would be upset if he lost her language. Little by little I heard God saying "I've got him. It's ok."
In the midst of all this, I had to return to the second half on my senior year of high school. I would often show up crying, and if I was composed at the beginning of the day, I would eventually lose myself to tears. I remember one day leaning into my open locker crying. My good friend, Josh Firkins, came by and just put his hand on my shoulder. I don't remember what he said, but I felt his love and again heard God say "Still here. Hold on." Later a friend, Jake Justice, told me "I'm sorry I didn't say anything at school. I don't know what to do when I see someone I love hurt so much." That was God saying "I see you. I know it hurts."
One day during Spanish I left class and went to the restroom. I fell in the floor and cried. One of my sweet professors, Mrs. Baer, came in and sat with me and prayed. "I'm holding you up."
I remember distinctly, throughout all this, continually seeing the image of a partially filled tapestry. Right now sweeps of color were being added. They were deep and dark strokes of color that I can't describe. Reds. Blues. Blacks. Purples. Nothing I know of captures what I saw. I don't remember a hand or a paintbrush. Just strokes of the darkest, most intense colors I have ever seen. As every stroke went on the tapestry, my heart broke, I cried. The colors made me gasp. My mind and body tensed. There was something awful and awesome about it all. "I'm writing your love story." I know it's going to be beautiful.
