Two Shoes

Today is Church day, a day of rest; not in our case. Lauren dictates the mood of the morning, and so would I if I were in a body cast. Her bath now consist of a bed bath and her hair being washed in the kitchen sink by lying her on the counter and her head in the sink. You do what you have to do, it definitely takes two of us to accomplish this task.

Her bed bath doesn’t go all that smoothly; pain, hurt, and discomfort seems to be the order of the morning. This is a timely procedure, with her popping tears from her eyes as big as raindrops. And you are holding back tears because you know if you start, they will never stop. None of this makes any sense and life seems so unfair, for a little child to have to suffer so.

Then its time to put on her Sunday best and top it off with her princess shoes. But then she realizes; I only have one shoe on and I have two feet. She can’t understand the concept that one cast practically covers her foot, while the other foot is totally exposed. So she cries all the way to church because she only has one shoe.

I explain to her that we can’t go into the Church with her screaming and if she doesn’t calm down, we’ll have to go back home. So she seems to understand and stops crying. By this time I am so frustrated, heartbroken and helpless; I don’t know how I’m going to go inside and pretend that we are having an amazing morning. And put on my ‘expected’ Christian smile and worship.

I make it to the doors, with my my anxiety through the roof, and without turning around  and making a run for home; I enter the Church. I’m already  late and that doesn’t go over well with me, my anxiety requires me to be there ten minutes before church starts. But not this morning.

I wheel us into our usual spot and take a breath; a big, deep breath. I lean over and she quietly says, ‘I want two shoes’. Now I can’t hold back the tears anymore, I am totally overwhelmed with the situation and life.  Right at that moment it was more then I could bare. So I thought, what do I do? I was at the end of my resources and I felt Lauren’s doctor’s were playing Russian  roulette with Lauren’s mobility. As a family we could not take anymore, nor could we do anymore.

I decided there and then; well if we can’t , Jesus can. I had to believe that. He was our only resort, our only hope. Quoting Pastor Isaiah, ‘So when we are at the end; Jesus is at the beginning’ (something like that). So without any hesitation, I brought my little girl to Jesus and I have to believe that He met us there at the front of that Church; I laid her on the altar (not literally), I gave her back to God. Me with my broken heart and broken mind and Lauren in desperate need of a touch from the Master. I pictured Him taking Lauren up in His arms and saying, ‘It’s going to be alright my child’. I prayed so earnestly for God’s intervention in our lives because without Him, we were falling apart. Our family was torn apart by life’s trials and only He could fix it.

Eventually Lauren will get to wear two shoes, but not only wear them but walk in them. If I don’t see it here on earth, I will see it in Heaven; we will cross the finish line one way or another. But we will win!

Isaiah 35:6 ‘Then will the lame leap like a deer, and the mute tongue shout for joy. Water will gush forth in the wildness and streams in the desert.’