If I am going to be honest (and I really try to be transparent on this blog), I have always had fear. My sister Katie believes that my fear stems from a procedure that I had done when I was little. Her story (which may or may not be accurate 😉) goes as follows: they were wheeling me in for whatever procedure (I had quite a few in my early years) and I screamed, reaching for my father. My last memory before the procedure would have been of me screaming for my dad while they took me away. Katie thinks that this event had a lasting effect on me.
Although I can't personally recall this incident (perhaps I have blocked it out for psychological reasons), I cannot remember a time in my life when I haven't felt fear.
Fear of the unknown. Fear of the known. Fear of everything that may happen or everything that may not happen.
Before Luke was born, my fear was present, but it wasn't acute. I had normal fears: bad grades, Tommy's travel, the pregnancies and births of my babies, the dark, and the elusive white van with no windows.
The moment Luke was born and we received his diagnosis, that fear became acute. It was omnipresent and enveloping. It was paralyzing.
Yes, that fear struck me to my very core: our baby had no chance to survive without intervention. And even with intervention, his chance at living a long life was practically zero.
But through that fear, my faith became stronger. It became more real as I had to face the beliefs that I had all my life. My life had been pretty easy until then. Sure, I had a few things that threw me for a loop every now and then. But nothing could have prepared me for the birth of a critically ill child. I had to rely on God as I have never relied on him before.
And through my fear, my relationships became stronger. My husband was (and still is) a constant source of support, prayer, and love. My children reminded me that I was stronger than I believed and that their unconditional love was what I needed to get through the most difficult days. My family and friends showed me what happens when people step in during the hard times. When people don't run when the going gets rough. When people walk through the fire with you.
But the fear is still there. Always lingering. Some days it is distant and some days it is right in front of me. It is a constant battle, but I am trying. And honestly, that is the best I can do.
This year, as we celebrate our Luke's 12th birthday, I pray that we can all find the strength to face our fears. That we can strengthen our faith, our relationships, our belief in ourselves.
That we can be like that little boy with the broken heart: who faced each day with a warrior's heart and who taught me that a tiny baby can be stronger than most adults. Who, even though he was born fighting a battle, never gave into the fear, and taught us all how to love harder and pray more deeply.
Be like Luke. Don't give into fear. Be brave.
Happy birthday, Wittle Bubba.
This year, as we celebrate our Luke's 12th birthday, I pray that we can all find the strength to face our fears. That we can strengthen our faith, our relationships, our belief in ourselves.
That we can be like that little boy with the broken heart: who faced each day with a warrior's heart and who taught me that a tiny baby can be stronger than most adults. Who, even though he was born fighting a battle, never gave into the fear, and taught us all how to love harder and pray more deeply.
Be like Luke. Don't give into fear. Be brave.
Happy birthday, Wittle Bubba.
