Weeks ago we were excited about the day we got to remove the tube because it would have meant another step closer to taking Maggie home to the nursery she has never seen, to a neighborhood full of people who already love her, and a pair of hyperactive dogs with over-used tongues who would have stood guard over her day and night. Now, with the failure of her liver, it means we will be saying goodbye.
Even if her heart, lung, kidneys and brain were in perfect condition, a failing liver can only be fixed through transplant. Because the rest of her body is failing that is not an option. It’s time for her to go someplace where she can breathe fresh air. Heaven’s got to have the freshest air, right?
How do you plan for the most difficult day of your life? And even more, how do you miss out on the last hours you have with your first born to plan for that day? I should be listening closely to the sounds Maggie makes while she is sleeping, not thinking about the eulogy I will write for her funeral. I should be kissing every toe and finger again and again, not thinking about family travel plans and the logistics of her death. That’s not the way it’s supposed to be.
I’m comforted to know that we stole three weeks with Maggie that we weren’t supposed to have. In reality she is on life support and has been since she turned 5 minutes old. She wasn’t supposed to be here this long and we weren’t supposed to know her as well as we do, but God was gracious to us, and for that I am thankful.
So, as the title of this post says, this is a time to bind. Our church family uses this phrase for the time after someone is baptized. The whole youth group come down to the front of the building and gathers around the person who has just dedicated their life to Christ. They sing a few songs, then they hug and love on that person to let them know how much they are cared for. That’s what this time is for us. It’s time to love on Maggie, kiss on Maggie, and tell her about the Heavenly Father who will be holding her soon. The problem is I’m not ready yet for God to have her.
My prayer life has transitioned a lot through the last six months. Prayers for my desires used to be a regular thing. I would ask and ask for the things I wanted, but I’ve noticed that I really don’t do that much anymore. I still have wants - things I desire - but I’ve learned to respect God more than that. His plans are so much greater than things and feelings. Instead I’ve started asking God about the things that he wants. I only bring this up as an observation. It’s something new I’ve learned, and I like it a lot.
God, I’m in love with my daughter and I’m going to have to let her go soon. Before I ever hear her sing or pray or say Daddy; before I ever see her dance, or climb or crawl. I know she will be blessed to be with you, but I’m not ready to let her go.
Please make my heart the way you want it to be. If pain and sorrow will mold me into the man you desire me to be, I will live that pain and sorrow. If your comfort and peace can let me be your man still, I beg you for that.
Please heal my heart and Joy’s heart. But before we heal please give us time to see the people who can benefit from our hurt. The people who need to see you in desperate times. I know you are faithful and you have answered every prayer. Thank you for loving man and wanting relationship with us.