Lately it feels like I need a serious pair of waders just to trudge through the bad, the very bad and the devastating.
Suffering. Pain. Loss. Inexplicable grief. It’s everywhere.
A grown son, just starting out in life, lost in a car accident today.
A couple, carrying a baby with a devastating prognosis, still making the most of their pregnancy milestones while praying for a miracle.
A beautiful girl robbed of the future and abilities, with parents who are determined to make the most of their remaining time.
It’s everywhere. And it physically feels heavy.
It doesn’t need to happen to you for you to feel it.
I’m always moved by the love that immediately shows up and surrounds a family who are watching something tragic unfold in front of their eyes. Their worst nightmare coming true. It’s like I get so disenchanted with humans at times but then I see people carrying pain with their friends. Feeling it with them. They drum up support. They anticipate the needs of their loved ones and get on the ball to meet them.
We are in this life together and in times like these, we have two choices to make. We can conserve our love or we can share it.
I have to say…I see an awful lot of sharing going on around me right now.
It’s a beautiful bright spot in the midst of overwhelming pain.
Humans don’t leave behind their weak. They pick them up and they stay strong for them. For as long as they have to, they carry burdens alongside those they love (and if you’re from the South, they bring you chicken casseroles which is pretty darn nice too).
I’m not calling any person weak here. People going through a difficult time are most definitely not weak…but they are singularly focused. How could you not be? They are emotionally spent. And they are putting the needs of the family member suffering more in front of their own than they ever have in their lives.
So the point of the post – well, I wanted to write out my feelings (which always helps me sort through them) and I wanted to share an opportunity to support a family that I know going through something unbelievably hard.
Layla is four. She was given the unbelievable blessing of being born to a wonderful loving family. Her parents adore her and she has an amazing big brother. After spending an extended period of time trying to understand Layla’s seizures, they were punched in the gut with a diagnosis that no parent should ever ever ever have to get.
Like – excuse my bluntness – but this diagnosis can kiss it.
Here are her parents standing in full armor ready to fight whatever battle needs to be fought to heal her – but there’s no battle. There’s no fight. The outcome is out of their hands.
Friends. I’m asking you to help if you can. Because the thing is…the battle now has to be this.
To make the most of the time they get.
All those outings we plan to take our kids on one day. The Disney trip we are going to wait just a few more years for. Those plans we make for the future.
They don’t have that.
Please visit their website and if you can give, awesome. If you can’t, maybe there are prayers you can offer up. Or maybe, you can look around at the people in your own life and community who are dealing with a monster that they are struggling to defeat…and you can share your love and strength with them.
Take their hand and be what I know humans to be…compassionate and loving people who surround the suffering with love and support.
To this sweet family - I want you to know that I am praying for you as often and intentionally as I can.
To the sweet friends of this family – you guys are amazing and I am moved by your love and care.
And to that sweet little girl bravely fighting a battle very few people have ever had to face…you are a Warrior Princess and there are a lot of people who want to help you cram all the life and love possible into these precious years. You have touched so many already. Stay brave, sweet girl.