Monday, May 7, 2012

Watching My Daughter Dance - Act One




Recently, one of my friends challenged her Facebook friends to use three photos to tell a life story. Her story was full of heartache and God’s healing from a tremendous loss and the bright hope she has for the future.  I have not suffered anything that would even come close to her anguish, but loved the challenge, and immediately had my mind’s wheels turning to think of which story I would tell, and thought once again how ALL of our stories are His-story at work in our lives and the triumphs tell us as much about Him as the tragedies.

The challenge to me is even further daunting, as here I am in Africa, away from all my life-long collection of ‘Kodak moments.’  (oh there are a few very recent photos on this computer that has been in my ownership for less than five months, but that doesn’t provide much to work with for the previous 55 plus years.) Then, one day, the story I want to tell came crystal clear in my mind.  The nursing group I was working with was discussing anemia and blood transfusions in our patients and our ship’s blood bank supply, and as is typical of women, our minds being spaghetti – where every thought immediately connects to another thought in a way that causes men to just scratch their heads trying to figure the connection – next thing I knew, the story of Laura’s day of birth, and the post-partum hemorrhage that I suffered, that caused a physician to come to John saying ‘women still die in 1982 from post-partum hemorrhages’ was spilling from my mouth. 



And then I knew it.  Three photos, Laura’s story.  I don’t have a photo of her day of birth but I have one of her as a very young little toddler with her daddy.  She had it on the wall in her cabin.  From before her birth, God has had a plan for our ‘little girl.’  Jeremiah writes in 1:5 “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.”  If God knew Jeremiah and had a plan for him to be a prophet before he was even formed in the womb, He also has a plan specifically for Laura (as well as each of us.) I recall thinking just prior to being put under the anesthesiologist’s medications for surgery after Laura’s birth while I was bleeding away, ‘Lord, take care of that daddy and his two babies if I am not around, but I would surely like to be their mommy for a long time.’  I’m writing this story today, as a certain affirmative answer from God for my prayer!








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