Something Heavenly

St. Luke's Hospital, Kansas City, MO - June 2010

Two years ago last night - It was a Friday. I came back to the Elet Szava campus after a fun backyard fellowship with a bonfire, games, and treats at my friend Megan's house - my mind was a million miles away. I opened my computer to an e-mail from my Dad, reading over it quickly. Reality woke me up and all my memories of the previous Sunday came crashing down on me like waterfall. My mom - my brother’s and sister's frightened voices as they explained that she was at the hospital - the two random grand mal seizures that were responsible for putting her there. I grabbed my computer and ran to the student lounge, that was the best spot to get wireless and everyone was still at Megan’s fellowship so no one would be in there. I quickly logged into skype and video called my parents - my dad answered on the other end. I knew they had been in and out of Doctors visits all week trying to figure out what was happening - but I wasn't afraid, after all the first doctor they saw told us the CAT scans of her brain were clear, so the worst possibilities had already been eliminated. At least that’s what I told myself. I was wrong.

My dad's voice choked as he attempted to describe the golf ball sized tumor that had been slowly growing in my mother's brain for the past ten years.

"No, daddy, no!" I know I'm the one who said it, I was the only one in the room. But it felt like someone else had spoken the words. I don't remember anything in the conversation after that - I retracted into my little shell of fear and pain in some twisted way seeking protection there from the words that had knocked my world off its axis.

"…You're a hurricane in a deadly spin. The way You move is dangerous, You take me to the edge of trust. But I'll have faith even if your way is dangerous."

That night was the worst night of my life. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t pray, all I could do was numbly sit there staring as my roommates tried to whisper words of comfort and encouragement. I didn’t sleep that night. I had never really understood why people would use the phrase “the sun will rise again” to comfort those who were afraid. But looking back on that night the cliché makes perfect sense. When that which you thought would never happen, happens. When the unchangeable, changes. It’s like the sun forgot to rise in the morning. That night, as melodramatic as it may sound I seriously doubted the sun would rise – like I would be forever “stranded in that midnight.” But come 5:30 AM birds began their song and sun rose in the east. No, not everything I knew to be true was changing, but my perception of it was.

Though the sorrow may last for the night His joy comes with the morning.

What followed that first life altering day of April 17, 2010 can only be described as organized chaos. There’s a song that I discovered in that monumental year of 2010 I think it’s called "something heavenly" –  the chorus put’s that time of my life into song:

“Whatever you’re doin’ inside of me, it feels like chaos somehow there’s peace. You’re up to something bigger than me, larger than life –

something heavenly.”

From my perspective, within the whirlwind: nothing. made. sense. The only thing that did make sense was the fact the God was still in control. God was still good – incredibly so. I still cry over the events of that year – when I think about the diagnosis, the surgery, the treatments, the healing process that continues to this day – those times were agonizing – and I wouldn’t wish them on anyone. But when I cry over them they are more often than not tears of joy. I wouldn’t trade that time in my life for the world. God took my little family and shook us to the core – and in so many way we are still feeling the aftershocks of that jolt. But we have seen God move mountains in our lives. I can only speak for my self, but I know I have come to better understand what it is to feel the calm in the storm, to know the immeasurable grace and mercy of my redeemer. I have come to despise the effects of the fall all the more, and therefor to long for the heavenly perfection of my final Home. As a family we have felt the protection, love, and care of the Body of Christ holding us like a strong embrace. It's indescribable.

In Brasil again - January 2012

“God is our refuge and strength an ever present help in trouble. Therefore we will not be afraid though the earth give way, and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, and it’s waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging” Psalms 46:1-3

I can’t believe it’s been two years. The Lord has brought my mother nearly full circle. The tumor is gone. The treatments are over. Slowly she is healing and regaining her abilities. Looking at my mom now you would probably never guess what she’s been through. This story that my family shares has given us SO many opportunities to encourage others and share the gospel. I don’t think I can possibly overstate the myriad of ways God has used this testimony. That which was once our greatest trial has turned into one of our greatest blessings.

“praise God from whom all blessings flow” … “Oh for a thousand tongues to sing my great redeemer’s praise, the glories of my God and King the riches of His grace”

~ Shaela