No Storms=No Rainbows
Last year when we went to Kauai (Thank you John & Barb! I could die very happily in your Kauai home), every day for weeks I remember seeing rainbows. We saw alot of them.
In Kauai, it rains alot. Maybe even daily, sometimes multiple times per day. But the rain usually doesn't last long. Often you see surfers just sitting in the rain on their longboards, taking a moment alone at sea, with their heads down. Others just chat with friends, while rain trickles down their faces. They are confident the storm will pass. They have a surety us non-locals do not possess. They know the storm will pass. Usually it is quickly. Sometimes it is just a drizzle, sometimes it's a downpour, but it passes. They know that soon they will be paddling or riding or kayaking again in the sun. They just have to wait out the storm...and be patient.
Last year we were sitting in a restaurant in Kauai, our five chickens amongst us, our heads still spinning from the previous Paris Winter, and God's Will thrown onto us...and I noticed some thick-skinned, old, smiling locals near us. One wore a shirt that simply read: "No storms, No Rainbows".
It spoke to me: the grown girl who passed through a wicked storm, who as a child drew every picture with a rainbow for years. I remember wishing on about my 7th birthday for pink hair and rainbow eyes. I loved rainbows, I still do. Now maybe for different reasons. But last year there were rainbows cheering us along each storm we passed through. This year I only saw one.
It was glorious and spanned the entire bay in front of us. We thought ourselves lucky to spot it, at 6 am our first morning after arriving. As with most rainbows, it didn't last long enough.
So with two months away from our crazy Paris schedule, I've had alot more time to reflect.
And all I can think of is: "What have ye learned from this?" What do I take from this? Any more storms ahead for us? Peej? Or just very few rainbows on the horizon, and lots of overcast, gray skies?
It's a reflective priviledge. That's the reward after the storm. It's God's way of telling you He's still there, still mindful of you.
It's bizarre to nearly completely detach our tethers to Paris, fly half way around the planet, with little or no talk of neurologists, CT scans, seizures, vestibules, he's not walking yet, physical therapy, deaf schools..and let the wind take our parachute far, far, far away from that place...and the stress and running it entails. And land in safety for awhile. And laugh and play and pretend like everything is ok, and grab onto the hope that "Everything Will Be OK"....someday, someday.
As the girls grow older, each time they fall and skin a knee, or someone says something hurtful, I realize all they really want is for us to hold them for as long as they need, and for us to tell them, "Everything will be ok."
The older I get the more I realize it's all I want, too. I want my husband to wrap me in his big, strong arms and tell me everything will be ok. I want him to wipe away my tears, fears, and take away my pain.
But he doesn't. And he won't. Maybe it's because he is not sure everything will be ok anymore. And I hate it.
When?
When will it be made right again?
I'm not asking "Why?" anymore, I feel I know the answer to that question.
Now I'm asking "When?"
Hannah about a week ago asked with very pure intent, "When will it be, Mama?"...I knew before I asked for clarification what she was getting at as she eyed Parker with her knowing eyes. I could feel a loving husband and father's gaze on both of us as I responded, "When will WHAT be, Hannah?"
"WHEN WILL PARKER BE HEALED? WHEN WILL HE HEAR AGAIN?"
I couldn't respond. I turned my head, but not before a very mature 6 yr old saw tears in my eyes. I wept. At her question. At her perfect faith. At her love, naivete.
At the fact that she sees my hope to carry on, cheer him on. Maybe she sees it, feels it, hears it in me. For that, I am grateful. Maybe that is why she fully expects him to get "better" and "be healed" whereas I feel most people are just assuming he won't.
John gracefully stepped in to take me out of that spotlight.
His response was simple and beautiful, "When Jesus comes again." (of course)
Then the girls said almost in unison, "Well...when is that?!"
We don't know, now, do we?
It's funny, the faith of a child, isn't it?
Axelle has heard us pray and been asked to pray for very specific things for Parker since she was 4 years old. Rather than echo our prayers to "PLEASE bless Parker to walk, talk, run, and hear", she starts her prayer with "THANK YOU that Parker can walk, talk, run and hear."
We don't correct her. She is right. (But not when we started 18 months ago...) He is walking (with a walker, or holding our hands), talking (3 or 4 important words like "cookie" and "ice cream"), running (when he gets really excited still while holding your hand, and hear (it is very clear that he hears with his implant, what his brain interprets those sounds to be is yet to be determined by consistent language).
Beginning of summer left us in a panic with bad EEG news, and we packed up our bags headed for 8 weeks of familial bliss mixed with some good 'ol Americana. We did lots of swimming, saw tons of cousins, Grandma, Grandpa, Nana, Grandad (turned 70!), Aunts, Uncles, and dear friends who caught our parachute, and took us in. A great photo shoot later (thanks, Sandi), a few choice visits to Jamba Juice and Target, a very real answer to sincere prayer, one very-way-too-near-drowning, and we pack up our chute for the next jump back to Paris.
What have I learned these past months?
That God hears and answers prayers
That miracles still happen everyday
That even when we think He is not, God is very mindful of us
That sometimes we must learn that we are not calling the shots here in life
That loving friends and family can likely help you get through anything
That in order to understand heavenly things, we have to pass through earthly trials
That everyone's trials are different, but each one is real, significant, and difficult for them
That I can't receive revelation when I am "noisy" inside or outside
That I go crazy if I don't sleep enough
That life is not what I expected it to be
That stress ages you
That to seek the Spirit as your companion, you must pray always, AND read your scriptures-every single day
That having a strong support group is alot, but your burdens are often your very own to carry...
That life is for learning hard lessons as well as smelling the flowers along the way
That the Lord works in mysterious ways, often through others to accomplish His tasks
That some things in life you've got to do alone, even if others offer to help. Things like prayer, pleading, and finding your own salvation
What have ye learned?
When?
When do you think the next storm will come? Are you chinning up? Cursing? Or dancing in the rain? Do you see a rainbow?
Everything Will Be OK. I still believe that. Maybe it's a different ok than I expected, but When?
