Last week, my daughter Gemma went to her final doctor's appointment in the long process of her recovery. And later on, while we debriefed in the kitchen, my wife Kalen said, "For some reason, this appointment really got me thinking that something bigger is going on here."
I believe that when we are doing our best to be tuned into the Spirit (not with perfection, mind you, but with intention), we will sometimes get important inward impressions like this. They draw us up and out of our circumstances to a different kind of perspective on things. A Spiritual perspective.
A point of view that just might begin to be able to grasp how God is fulfilling his promise to "work all things together for good."
I don't mean that in a naive, easy-answers, no-lament kind of way either. Because as I mentioned in an earlier post, we are still processing the heaviness of this, the sheer trauma of it all. Still in that liminal space between.
But even in that space you can sometimes catch a glimpse of where you're going. A glimpse of the promise of restoration. A Spirit-led vision of a Spirit-filled future.
Things did not work out as we had planned - and coming into this year, boy did we have a plan. It was going to be thus and so, and it was going to be great! But right when we thought we had arrived, the unthinkable happened. Our child nearly died. We spent two months getting her back to health.
Plans out the window.
And what seemed to be so shiny then, so promising and alluring, now seems strangely dim. It's kind of like we've grown up a little more, and now we are looking for different things altogether. More of the ego has died with this new year, a continuation on a 2015 theme that we thought was a thing of the past, but alas was brought into the present, here for a little longer.
But we know that accepting, arriving, and belonging are still part and parcel of this year's vision, if only pushed off a bit. Perhaps, just until we wait a little longer for the Pentecost Paraclete to be poured out.
There is something bigger going on here.
Already we sense that the winds of change are blowing.
And until then, there is a task. A task that will likely take me away from this blog, again, temporarily, but for real this time, to complete the manuscript that has already become something different, more, than I ever intended it to be because of these deaths we have died in the meantime.
So, thanks for your patience as I go dark for a bit to complete the task assigned to me in this liminal space.
Because something bigger is going on here.
And I plan to write my way to the other side and see what it is.
One of the most difficult things about a family health crisis is the financial aftershock. As a self-employed person and the primary income earner in our family, I lost over a month of work (and income) due to Gemma’s ordeal. If you feel so inclined, you can donate here to help us catch up.