Squid’s Word

 I don’t know her at all. But I have witnessed her pain through her friends on Shoutlife. Some of you know her story: Amanda lost two little girls in an horrific car accident. An accident in which she almost died herself. She has spent time, a lot of time, in ICU where it was touch and go for her as well.

Coma, broken body, bandages, infections,

…the devastating news…

One of her good friends sends me the occasional short update. Nothing specific, just asks me to pray.   “…She’s really suffering today; please say a special prayer for her…” 

You bet I will!

How do you describe…? How do you survive? For that matter how do you be after this?? I pride myself as something of a wordsmith but this?!…

Words fail me.

As I write this its 2:00 in the morning. My son just woke up; A little whimper and some calling out for mommy. Let me tell you I have a whole new perspective on those sounds….

…and still, words fail me…

Tell you what, let’s use hers.  

She writes: “… I’m praying from my pit this very second, God, please lead me. Help me. Guide me. Lift me out of this scary pit. Just get me through today. Get me through this very minute. Step by step. Day by Day. Your Grace IS sufficient, even if I don’t feel it…”

Wait a minute; I think I have a word:

Courage.

Raw, unyielding, unrelenting, tough, uncompromising courage.

Here is someone climbing the inside of the spiritual, emotional, and psychological equivalent of a 100 foot abandoned well, inch by bloody, dirty inch. No reliable foothold, with a seventy pound weight on her back. Climbing toward a blurry speck of light; a pinpoint of hope….

….and I continue to pray that she will continue to climb; but could we honestly blame her if she didn’t? After all, what’s left? How many of us would have the courage to continue on as she has?

How many of us have ever faced what she has? I’m sure a lot of people out there have.

I haven’t, and I pray I never do.  

“….I spent yesterday knelt by the graveside of those I love most: my precious baby girls. I’ll admit-I cried, actually I sobbed, I stomped my feet and got angry with God-and then I realized that wasn’t bringing my babies back. I realized that though I’m far worse than I ever thought possible, God’s Grace is still greater that I can imagine. Of course, it doesn’t take away the hurt of having my babies no longer with me. I still have a lot to deal with-most of it I’ve been “putting-off” for a day when I can really let loose and cry it out..” 

Hugging a headstone is an awful substitute for holding your little one who needs their diaper changed…

“….I want OUT of these dark days. The days where I can’t imagine things ever being different. These days where my Faith is cold, when God is silent. The days when I forget what that hope looks like and all I can do is cry…not even able to pray. God, remind me daily what a mighty fortress you are!..”

Courage. And I think something else.

It occurs to me this is someone with an authentic relationship with God. Not just the sweetness and light, but the anguish, the misery and the pain.

There is a mood of truth and an honesty in her words. It’s as if she is reaching out to help us understand what is happening in these holy moments. Allowing us to glimpse her soul now enveloped in a complex mix of sorrow, despair, hope, and divine presence.

No sugar coating. No soft chewy center…

…but no retreat or surrender either.

“….I have been in a really scary pit lately, clawing to survive-but thank you God for sending people into my life who have been willing to hop into the pit with me and hold me until I’m able to see that Jesus is in the pit with us both and will eventually redeem me from this pit-maybe not today or tomorrow, but in his perfect timing….”

I believe we are simultaneously blessed and admonished by her testimony; the taste of which is so palpable it stings the back of your throat. And it occurs to me that I’ve been praying more for my own benefit than for hers; that the hope she seeks will be there for her in her moment of greatest need. And that her hope is MY hope. Please God, do not abandon her…don’t abandon me!

Which brings me to my last word: Knowledge.

Her tragedy has revealed something to her, or rather brought it more clearly into focus. She knows, not in a see-through-the-glass-darkly sort of way, but in a doubting Thomas, all-the-way-to-your-bones-till-they-hurt way.

And while part of me bolts for the door at the sight of her suffering, another part of me covets, ever so slightly, the knowledge she now enjoys. Knowledge she couldn’t deny if she tried. Knowledge she so eloquently explains.

And so I leave you with her words:

“…I do know God and I’m known by him and as hard as this is for me to say and it makes tears well up in my eyes right now…I know that whatever my lot-even at first, I cry…it IS well, it is well with my soul. …

…I believe in GRACE because I’ve seen it…

…I believe in PEACE because I’ve felt it…

…and I believe in FORGIVENESS because I’ve needed it….”

Squid