we hadn’t seen this doctor in awhile, nearly three years, and back then ian wasn’t walking yet.

back then we had shown the surgeon a video of ian trying to walk, but we were moving his legs for him, and he didn’t have much strength to do it on his own.

this time, though, ian walked for the surgeon. the surgeon that had seem him hours after his accident.

‘it’s a minor miracle,” he said, that he was doing what we’d all been praying for, that he was getting his leg to move that has a jumbled up mess of bone and metal screws and scars instead of a knee. that that crazy excuse for a knee was holding up 170 pounds, balancing it as he turned and letting him move forward.

“ian, you made my year.”

he made ours, too, because those doctors that saw him those first few hours are the only ones that knew what he looked like, knew what his body had been wrung through. they were the doctors that were inside his flesh and skull and really, actually know how bad it was.

and each time we see those two doctors, every few years, they see God. they might not know it, but they see God in the legs that move and the voice that now speaks words.

he made our year. because it’s easy to forget all that has been done.

the surgery may come into our lives, or it may not. those are questions to be turned into and through God’s hands and our hearts. 

but for now, we acknowledge that God is God, and we are not. 

thankful for what He’s done,

l