Pretending to be a bug when taking a snack break!
Josiah has started intensive therapy. Intensive = 45 hours of physical therapy, 40 hours of occupational therapy, and 20 hours of speech therapy in 20 days.
It’s been a good week so far. Our weekend was full of late nights and early mornings, so he started Monday tired. But he did great! He’s getting more therapy this round than he did last spring, so I’m really excited to see how he does.
It’s been so good to see Josiah’s progress through the years. The days (and nights) are certainly easier. But even now, six years later, this time of year still sneaks up with a surge of emotions. I wrote last year about the memories that surface. I’m more aware each year of how I’m affected and have two options – choose to dwell on how a brain tumor changed our lives, or choose to see God through it all. Hence the name, Seeing the Hand of God in last year’s post. His goodness and grace thread intricately through our story, once again revealing His Glory.
Hard memories become a testimony of His Goodness, Grace, and Glory.
This year, the first day of school came and went easily enough, along with Labor Day. I see our family pictures and remember when our kids were so little. Still not with the pain of previous years. I’m grateful.
Sunday comes with the exhaustion from getting back into town at 11 pm the night before. Up early, kids bathed and dressed, breakfast fixed and served, and out of the house by 7:30 to pray before church begins.
We begin service with worship songs, Josiah’s favorite part. How he loves to sing and worship. He even enjoys the slow songs today, another small victory. As the final song begins, I see the look of panic. A deer in the headlights look, so to speak, as his tears start to flow. Since Nathan is closer, he quickly ushers Josiah out of the sanctuary into a more quiet space to find some calm. I wonder if I should go with them, but stay with our other kids.
I’m feeling all the feelings.
Guilty that I stay in worship while Nathan misses the last song and communion. Frustrated that something triggered panic. Grateful that it isn’t like this all the time. Bitter for the times it is. Remembering back to years prior when it was impossible to attend church as a family and how far we have come.
All while singing “We Believe” to and about a God who conquered death and gives us new life. Asking that same God why it has to be so hard, yet thankful for the gifts and lessons He gives because of that same hard. Trying to figure out all the feelings and where they’re coming from, seemingly out of the blue. Then realizing it’s almost six years to the day of his diagnosis and the start of a new journey.
And we sing,
We believe in God the Father!
We believe in Jesus Christ!
We believe in the Holy Spirit!
And He’s given us new life!
We believe in the crucifixion!
We believe that He conquered death!
We believe in the resurrection!
And He’s comin’ back again!
Even when it’s hard, I believe. Even when it’s frustrating, I believe.
I believe, and I am grateful. I remember that my life is not meant to be about me, but to glorify the one who gives me life.
I’d much rather prefer to keep to myself. To sit in the back, unnoticed and blend into the crowd. Instead, we sit front and center, while my little (not so little) guy worships unashamed and attracting more attention than I even care to know. He’s glorifying God in his own way, and while I absolutely love it, I’m still learning to embrace it. With Josiah, there’s no blending into the crowd and keeping to myself. In fact, he talks with everyone he sees and we are stretched even more. Ultimately, God is glorified. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.