Healing and Sustenance
WRITTEN ON SUNDAY, APRIL 23, 2017
We are still at the hospital waiting on a few minor details to get worked out. It's been a lovely, sunny day all day and we have had this hospital room to ourselves until this evening. Madi is pretty much back to normal except for the bandages and the residual black eye. We've been trying to convince her that she should consider dreadlocks, considering the recent cleanliness of her hair, but she did not agree. We've taken strolls in the wheelchair and lots and lots of walks through the hospital today. She had a nice visit from more of her dearest friends and it was so good for her (and us). We have been laughing and enjoying our time together. I'm kind of glad for this break we have had from all the news and information and decisions and pressure.
Beyond the sweet moments we've had today, the day has felt different from others. I do not use the word lighly when I say that today felt holy. In our faith, we have a tradition of fasting once a month or for 24 hours and donating the money we would have spent on food to the poor. During times of crisis or great need, we will often fast again as a way of magnifying our faith and desire. Today, the bishop (like a priest, except volunteer) asked our congregation to participate in a fast for Madi. My family and Kurt's family were also fasting, and friends (and strangers!) from around the country were also fasting I would guess there were close to 200 people fasting today for Madi's health. As soon as I woke up this morning, I felt different. A thick feeling of peace rested on me, the way I imagine my little Anna (2 years old) feels when I pick her up and hug her after she hurts herself. I felt rested and calm and still. Kurt and I talked privately about realistically what the future might hold and for the first time, I did not feel afraid. Then, Madi and Kurt and I sat and read a chapter from the Book of Mormon about faith (Alma 32). We told her that the tumor was cancerous (the doctor told us she was 90% sure) and talked very calmly aboutt how treatment might be hard, but we would be together - our whole family. We talked a lot about how we can't choose what we go through in this life, but we can choose to use our trials as opportunities to become better and closer to the people we love. We also talked a lot about our family, both here in mortality and family who have passed on and how those we cannot see will be God's ambassadors, uplifting and strengthening us during this next phase of our lives. Kurt said he knew he would have chosen to be with our family, even if he had known everytthing that would happen. He said these hard moments will pass before we know it and we will always and forever be together. We all cried and prayed together. It was a sacred conversation that lifts me everytime I think aboutt it.
So for all those who fasted and prayed for us and for Madi on Sunday, please know that I have never felt the power and strength of God in such a tangible way. We desperately needed it. Thank you to all of you! More tomorrow...
We are still at the hospital waiting on a few minor details to get worked out. It's been a lovely, sunny day all day and we have had this hospital room to ourselves until this evening. Madi is pretty much back to normal except for the bandages and the residual black eye. We've been trying to convince her that she should consider dreadlocks, considering the recent cleanliness of her hair, but she did not agree. We've taken strolls in the wheelchair and lots and lots of walks through the hospital today. She had a nice visit from more of her dearest friends and it was so good for her (and us). We have been laughing and enjoying our time together. I'm kind of glad for this break we have had from all the news and information and decisions and pressure.
Beyond the sweet moments we've had today, the day has felt different from others. I do not use the word lighly when I say that today felt holy. In our faith, we have a tradition of fasting once a month or for 24 hours and donating the money we would have spent on food to the poor. During times of crisis or great need, we will often fast again as a way of magnifying our faith and desire. Today, the bishop (like a priest, except volunteer) asked our congregation to participate in a fast for Madi. My family and Kurt's family were also fasting, and friends (and strangers!) from around the country were also fasting I would guess there were close to 200 people fasting today for Madi's health. As soon as I woke up this morning, I felt different. A thick feeling of peace rested on me, the way I imagine my little Anna (2 years old) feels when I pick her up and hug her after she hurts herself. I felt rested and calm and still. Kurt and I talked privately about realistically what the future might hold and for the first time, I did not feel afraid. Then, Madi and Kurt and I sat and read a chapter from the Book of Mormon about faith (Alma 32). We told her that the tumor was cancerous (the doctor told us she was 90% sure) and talked very calmly aboutt how treatment might be hard, but we would be together - our whole family. We talked a lot about how we can't choose what we go through in this life, but we can choose to use our trials as opportunities to become better and closer to the people we love. We also talked a lot about our family, both here in mortality and family who have passed on and how those we cannot see will be God's ambassadors, uplifting and strengthening us during this next phase of our lives. Kurt said he knew he would have chosen to be with our family, even if he had known everytthing that would happen. He said these hard moments will pass before we know it and we will always and forever be together. We all cried and prayed together. It was a sacred conversation that lifts me everytime I think aboutt it.
So for all those who fasted and prayed for us and for Madi on Sunday, please know that I have never felt the power and strength of God in such a tangible way. We desperately needed it. Thank you to all of you! More tomorrow...
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