Becoming Stronger

I have so many blog posts in my head screaming to get out, but when I begin to write them they fall silent. Last week was hard, y’all. Mei’s arthritis returned and then continued to get worse. It was simply a week of emotional upheaval….and yet calm.

I’ve cried a whole lot since the arthritis returned, but more from sadness in this moment than from despair. While I’m sorrowful to see my daughter in pain and discomfort, I feel almost instantly comforted in my sorrow. There is a comforting presence which wraps around me when the tears flow and reminds me that this is temporary. I look at the smiling face of my daughter as she sits cocooned in an electric blanket on the couch and she speaks of being able to enjoy the quietness of her suddenly simplified life. She does schoolwork, watches television, visits with friends, and draws scores of pictures from her warm little nest in the living room.

This morning she pulled out her blingy purple cane and leaned heavily on it as she stumped through the house. My heart warmed at the memory of making that cane almost two years ago. We glued those jewels on not knowing what was wrong with her or if it was curable. Two years later, the enemy has a name and we have seen it beaten into hiding. And so this year we wait….because we know our enemy well, and we know that there is a probability that we can make it sleep again.

And so we hope while we wait.

I rub her aching feet and toes, trace the edges of her knees which are both swollen now, and she leans against me and sighs. I talked to her this afternoon about the road back to remission and how it may be a long one. We have no way of knowing. She looked away from me and tried bravely not to cry.

“Cry if you need to,” I told her. “There’s no shame in tears. Tears are the way that God has given us to let the pressure off when life gets hard. It’s like the steam coming out of the tea kettle telling you that something is going on inside. Tears aren’t a bad thing. They have a purpose.”

She nodded her head and I know she understands. I also know that she’s trying so hard to be brave. I can see the struggle in her face and I can only begin to imagine the fear of a 9 year old with her challenges, and yet I know the gift of strength that she is being given.

There is power and fearlessness in facing horrible things, I tell her. When you have seen the worst thing you can imagine happen, and you stare it in the face. When you realize that having God at your side means that the fear and the hurt can’t touch the inner core of who you are. When you realize that walking through the Valley of Shadows is made easier when you walk in the Light.That’s when you learn to just keep walking, to grab tightly to His hand and keep going.

Someday she will realize how powerful it is to be a woman of faith who just keeps walking, how strong she has become. She will know that when she walks with her Father she becomes a girl who can’t be stopped, and that a mighty girl with a sparkly cane is a fearsome and beautiful thing to be.