I Choose Life!
Bare with me as I jump forward about a week in order to capture the emotion and feeling of this day before my old age...along with many bumps on the head...keep me from remembering.
As I sit in the PICU waiting room while Zoe is in yet another surgery...where the uncertainty and the helplessness are palpable...my mind keeps spinning around a few central ideas that I wanted to share.
After the army of people wheeled her away today, I found myself back in her empty room, thinking...pondering life. Not simply the gargantuan task set before the surgeons...and it is huge...but also the topic, in general...life.
The director of the PICU walked by and saw me sitting there...on the toilet lid, mind you...no pride left, I can assure you. She stuck her head in and asked how I was doing...to which I responded, "Hanging in there...just trusting." She said, "That's all you can do, right?" I couldn't help but say, "Actually, no...I could despair. I could crumble. I could melt into a puddle of tears. But I'm choosing to trust that God is in control, and that He's got this covered." (I should point out that even as I'm typing these words, I'm sitting square in the middle of such a puddle, tough gal that I am...so hold the fanfare.) Having to say it aloud to her, though, gave me the strength enough to get up and go find my family.
I can assure you that all the platitudes and fancy Christian-speak can only carry you so far...it's not a long distance journey to the end of your rope...it's really more like an Olympic sprint into the desert...where you're left with no water and no camel...only pamphlets about "coping with tragedy" blowing along with the tumbleweed.
When all this started a couple weeks ago, we were taken aback by all the incredible equipment and facilities and knowledge that would be used to save Zoe's life. It truly was astounding. This little girl from an unknown place halfway around the world, was now smack dab in the middle of some of the best medical care in the country. We haven't been her parents for 3 months at this point. To say it's overwhelming would be the understatement of the year.
I don't think I'll ever forget the question Chris posed in the chaos of those first few days.
"How much is a life worth?"
All the sacrifice...all the finances...all the schooling...all the intellect...all the technology...all the skill...all the love...all the compassion. How much is too much? What lengths would I not go to save the life of one I loved? In a world where personal sacrifice is frowned upon and personal satisfaction trumps all, how crazy is this? Babies are abandoned, neglected, abused, and thrown out...and we're doing all this to try and rescue...one. (Well, two...but you get my point.) We're pulling out all the stops...holding nothing back...for a little angel we met only 3 months ago.
Must be us...we're just that awesome. Uh...nah. Anyone that knows us is full-on gut-laughing right now. Ok...that's enough...you can stop now...no, really...k...the rest of you just try to listen over the snorting.
I'm not trying to give a commentary on the world's issues. I could rant for days. I have a simple comment that could summarize everything...every emotion, every sacrifice, every stinkin' bit of it. Are you ready? Here goes...
I CHOOSE LIFE.
If I could have the senate floor, I'd boldly proclaim the same thing..."choose life." If they'd pipe me through the sound system in the hospital, I'd repeat..."just choose life." To every person that has asked me about Zoe's adoption these past couple of weeks, I've circled the wagons around the same theme...life. After all, that's what her name means...life.
And so I find myself in the PICU, silently screaming to the Ultimate Healer, "LIFE! LIFE! LIFE! Please...I'm begging you...life." It all comes down to this. Every form, every frustration, every check written to innumerable agencies, every prayer uttered by myself and thousands of people all around the world...life.
Dear God, I plead with you...with heavy brokenness and utter dependance...sustain Zoe's life...for You are the only One who can. Show Yourself in that operating room in such a way that everyone who hears and sees, will be amazed. We've spoken of Your sustaining power in Zoe's life to every single person since this journey began...simply because there is NO other explanation for her surviving to date...save the supernatural power of a loving God. We presume upon Your compassion and grace in asking for yet another miracle. We long to see her smile again...to share in her sweet laughter...to hear her tiny little voice singing, "Jesus Loves Me." Please Lord...choose life. This is what we ask. But if in Your wisdom, You do not grant this request...if Your plan is greater than anything we could ask or imagine that includes Zoe, please give us the peace that passes any understanding. Soften our hearts and strengthen our faith. Remind us daily that there is truly no life apart from You.
So how much is a life worth? Ask Jesus. He gave everything. This tiny bit I'm giving right now?!? It pales in comparison. I pray that I'll remember that when this day is done.
As I sit in the PICU waiting room while Zoe is in yet another surgery...where the uncertainty and the helplessness are palpable...my mind keeps spinning around a few central ideas that I wanted to share.
After the army of people wheeled her away today, I found myself back in her empty room, thinking...pondering life. Not simply the gargantuan task set before the surgeons...and it is huge...but also the topic, in general...life.
The director of the PICU walked by and saw me sitting there...on the toilet lid, mind you...no pride left, I can assure you. She stuck her head in and asked how I was doing...to which I responded, "Hanging in there...just trusting." She said, "That's all you can do, right?" I couldn't help but say, "Actually, no...I could despair. I could crumble. I could melt into a puddle of tears. But I'm choosing to trust that God is in control, and that He's got this covered." (I should point out that even as I'm typing these words, I'm sitting square in the middle of such a puddle, tough gal that I am...so hold the fanfare.) Having to say it aloud to her, though, gave me the strength enough to get up and go find my family.
I can assure you that all the platitudes and fancy Christian-speak can only carry you so far...it's not a long distance journey to the end of your rope...it's really more like an Olympic sprint into the desert...where you're left with no water and no camel...only pamphlets about "coping with tragedy" blowing along with the tumbleweed.
When all this started a couple weeks ago, we were taken aback by all the incredible equipment and facilities and knowledge that would be used to save Zoe's life. It truly was astounding. This little girl from an unknown place halfway around the world, was now smack dab in the middle of some of the best medical care in the country. We haven't been her parents for 3 months at this point. To say it's overwhelming would be the understatement of the year.
I don't think I'll ever forget the question Chris posed in the chaos of those first few days.
"How much is a life worth?"
All the sacrifice...all the finances...all the schooling...all the intellect...all the technology...all the skill...all the love...all the compassion. How much is too much? What lengths would I not go to save the life of one I loved? In a world where personal sacrifice is frowned upon and personal satisfaction trumps all, how crazy is this? Babies are abandoned, neglected, abused, and thrown out...and we're doing all this to try and rescue...one. (Well, two...but you get my point.) We're pulling out all the stops...holding nothing back...for a little angel we met only 3 months ago.
Must be us...we're just that awesome. Uh...nah. Anyone that knows us is full-on gut-laughing right now. Ok...that's enough...you can stop now...no, really...k...the rest of you just try to listen over the snorting.
I'm not trying to give a commentary on the world's issues. I could rant for days. I have a simple comment that could summarize everything...every emotion, every sacrifice, every stinkin' bit of it. Are you ready? Here goes...
I CHOOSE LIFE.
If I could have the senate floor, I'd boldly proclaim the same thing..."choose life." If they'd pipe me through the sound system in the hospital, I'd repeat..."just choose life." To every person that has asked me about Zoe's adoption these past couple of weeks, I've circled the wagons around the same theme...life. After all, that's what her name means...life.
And so I find myself in the PICU, silently screaming to the Ultimate Healer, "LIFE! LIFE! LIFE! Please...I'm begging you...life." It all comes down to this. Every form, every frustration, every check written to innumerable agencies, every prayer uttered by myself and thousands of people all around the world...life.
Dear God, I plead with you...with heavy brokenness and utter dependance...sustain Zoe's life...for You are the only One who can. Show Yourself in that operating room in such a way that everyone who hears and sees, will be amazed. We've spoken of Your sustaining power in Zoe's life to every single person since this journey began...simply because there is NO other explanation for her surviving to date...save the supernatural power of a loving God. We presume upon Your compassion and grace in asking for yet another miracle. We long to see her smile again...to share in her sweet laughter...to hear her tiny little voice singing, "Jesus Loves Me." Please Lord...choose life. This is what we ask. But if in Your wisdom, You do not grant this request...if Your plan is greater than anything we could ask or imagine that includes Zoe, please give us the peace that passes any understanding. Soften our hearts and strengthen our faith. Remind us daily that there is truly no life apart from You.
So how much is a life worth? Ask Jesus. He gave everything. This tiny bit I'm giving right now?!? It pales in comparison. I pray that I'll remember that when this day is done.
