Years ago, I scrawled a children's poem with this title. It is about friends. Wonderful, real, faithful friends.
Tomorrow, dear Naomi is stopping by for a last good-bye before they head cross country, then back home to Mozambique. Tuesday evening their family and Trudgens gathered here for shared food, warm company, and laughter. The kids all prepared a show for us, the acting out of a hilarious joke, ending with a q&a for the talented cast. So very cute! It struck me all at once, that we have known every one of our *combined* eleven children since infancy (or in Ayisha's case both Naomi and Ginger knew her in Malawi as a toddler, even before we did). That at one time, we couples sat around the table as newlyweds, full of ideals, full of ourselves, and full of somewhat untested faith. We have celebrated each other's babies, grieved our losses, wrestled through heartache, and dashed dreams together. We have seen each other through glorious victories as well as more subtle changes, perhaps recognizable only within the context of old relationships. We know each other's strengths and weaknesses well. I know I have been loved despite glaring character flaws, aggravating habits, and a sinful heart. Love has covered over a multitude of sins and youthful folly. I have been loved far better than I could ever hope to love. These friends are honest, devoted, transparent and full of grace. I see Jesus in them. I know Christ's love better because of them. I am accepted by them. And this is no small thing.
Tomorrow, because Naomi and I both have MK (missionary kid) issues, we won't say good-bye really. We'll say a quick, "See ya later!", give a deep hug and pretend poorly that it is just another day. Yes, we'll insist that it is only a matter of time (DAYS) before we live down the street from each other, when we can just pop over for a good cup of tea, embarrass our children with ridiculously loud, thigh slapping laughter, debate books, and basically spill our guts. With each passing year, I am more and more convinced.
That, truly, I am rich beyond measure.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
She has had a couple rough days. Yesterday, while in the middle of active play, a vicious seizure took hold. This is the first time this has happened outside of a sleep cycle. And honestly, it is unnerving to realize a new pattern may have begun. We have been working with her neurologists on getting her admitted to an epilepsy unit, where her seizures would not only be closely monitored but instigated with the intent of pinpointing their origin. If, as it seemed up until yesterday, the seizures are localized, then surgery may be a possibility for her. I desperately hope I am wrong, but I think yesterday's seizure began on the opposite side of the brain from the norm. If so, this immediately eliminates surgical options.
Please pray for our sweet girl, for her sisters (as I am convinced the Lord intends to build something uniquely beautiful in them through this), and for Steve and I as we continue to lift our daughter before the throne of the ONE who made her.
May we persevere in faith, hope, and love.
Posted by Amy at 9:04 AM