These sins of ours, before and after conversion, would consign us to the place of inextinguishable fire if it were not for gods sovereign mercy, which snatched us like sticks from the fire. My soul, bow down under a sense of your natural sinfulness and worship your God. – spurgeon
As a side note, I realized tonight that Ian’s wedding band is missing, and it was steves. I’m finding peace in gods sovereignty over all things but something like this is so sad to me because ian ans i dont have anything else of Steve’s left as precious as his wedding band. Please pray that we would find it.
With five nieces and nephews under the age of five, we’ve had lots of love so far this summer. We’ve been laying under lot of trees, swimming and just trying to be happy.
Sorry for the lack of posts recently. We don’t have any significant updates, except that Ian’s new doctor is trying some new routes to stimulate ian’s brain. we’re praying that they work and that the side effects are minimal.
the knee surgery may still be an option but it’s a huge decision that we are hoping to spend time praying about and thinking through the consequences either way.
after a good weekend, a new week starts. after our appointment with the surgeon last week, we are unsure whether we should proceed with the surgery, but we are leaning towards not. there are very serious risks with limited expectation for improvement.
please pray for wisdom for this as we continue to pray and think about the surgery, as well as some upcoming and needed changes to ian’s therapy routine.
“Death’s black extinguisher must soon put out thy candle. Oh! how sweet to have sunlight when the candle is gone! The dark flood must soon roll between thee and all thou hast; then wed thine heart to him who will never leave thee; trust thyself with him who will go with thee through the black and surging current of death’s stream, and who will land thee safely on the celestial shore, and make thee sit with him in heavenly places for ever.”
“Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” Psalm 30:5
Christian! If thou art in a night of trial, think of the morrow; cheer up thy heart with the thought of the coming of thy Lord. Be patient, for
“Lo! He comes with clouds descending.”
Be patient! The Husbandman waits until he reaps his harvest. Be patient; for you know who has said, Behold, I come quickly; and my reward is with me, to give to every man according as his work shall be. If you are never so wretched now, remember
“A few more rolling suns, at most,Will land thee on fair Canaan’s coast.”
Thy head may be crowned with thorny troubles now, but it shall wear a starry crown ere long; thy hand may be filled with cares–it shall sweep the strings of the harp of heaven soon. Thy garments may be soiled with dust now; they shall be white by-and-by. Wait a little longer. Ah! how despicable our troubles and trials will seem when we look back upon them! Looking at them here in the prospect, they seem immense; but when we get to heaven we shall then
“With transporting joys recount,The labours of our feet.”
Our trials will then seem light and momentary afflictions. Let us go on boldly; if the night be never so dark, the morning cometh, which is more than they can say who are shut up in the darkness of hell. Do you know what it is thus to live on the future–to live on expectation–to antedate heaven? Happy believer, to have so sure, so comforting a hope. It may be all dark now, but it will soon be light; it may be all trial now, but it will soon be all happiness. What matters it though weeping may endure for a night, when joy cometh in the morning?
Charles Spurgeon
Morning and Evening
Morning, May 13
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Just as the bitter winter comes before the summer, so do sufferings before the heavenly reward.
is what i found myself saying to ian tonight as he drove his wheelchair on our walk. it was meant simply as a reminder to open his squinting eyes just enough to see the road that he needed to drive on. the asphalt itself wasn’t that pretty and we had to watch a few potholes. but the beauty around it was clear- a big green field, full trees, dandelions along the edge of the road.
in that moment, i realized that i needed to do in my heart what i was telling ian to do with his wheelchair. it was a particularly hard day, with words like plateau and baseline thrown in to a conversation about ian’s progress (or lack of) and i found myself thrown into spiraling thoughts, fearing ian’s future, fearing physical decline, fearing that i won’t be able to give my husband what he needs. and while i was thinking of all of those things, i had my eyes closed to anything beautiful. before we left for our walk, i told ian that i needed to see god. i needed to see him in way that would refresh my thoughts that god is still here and god still makes beauty in the midst of our ugly mess. i needed to have my eyes opened to the beauty that was around the road, not the road itself. the beauty that was ahead of the road, not the potholes that we had to steer around.
it is so so hard to see beauty when i’m surrounded by nature that is groaning for the return of the lord. it’s so hard to see beauty when i’m being told that my husband won’t get any better. but it has to be in there somewhere. somewhere.
thank you for your constant prayers for ian. tomorrow we see the surgeon for a consultation on his knee. please pray that we would make a good decision in faith that god will provide for us.
i am reading “a grace disguised” on my lunch breaks, which is a great way to direct my thoughts halfway through the day. i came across this passage today and was struck by my desire to hopefully feel this way someday as well:
I still remember the accident. who could forget the horror of it? but I also remember what has happened since. who would want to forget the wonder of that? my memory has become a source of healing for me. it reminds me of the loss. but it also tells me that the loss was not simply the ending of something good; it was also the beginning of something else. and that has turned out to be good too.
ian’s brain injury in itself isn’t a good thing. it’s horrible. and sad. and discouraging. and changes everything about our lives. but it has been the beginning of something else and i have to trust in our wise and gracious god, that this way was better than health. i certainly don’t feel it but i have to know it in my head, or else these days are just far too long.
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