Today I had to wake up a little earlier than usual. Kimmy had to be at The Children’s Hospital by 8:15. A long commute, from our house in the foothills, driving east, into the sun, during rush hour.
I have been working through a particular devotional book in the mornings, and when I couldn’t find it today, I picked up one that was on the bookshelf that I have not read in a very long time. It is Charles Spurgeon “Morning & Evening Devotionals.” I flipped through and when I found the August 17 morning devotional I was pleasantly greeted by a familiar passage.
When Kimmy was born nine years ago with a severe congenital heart defect I claimed Psalm 147: 3 as her life verse. “He heals the broken in heart and binds up their wounds.” She had three major heart surgeries before she was six months old. This is the verse that seemed most appropriate to claim for such a fragile and special life. It didn’t seem coincidental that this verse was the focus of the daily reading for “August 17, The Mercy of God.” Instead, it seemed as if God wanted me to read this today, not the one in the book I couldn’t find.
Today was landmark surgical procedure number twenty-five. It really was a minor procedure, but since it was A) performed in an operating room, B) by an eye surgeon, c) under anesthesia; it gets recorded as surgery. She had to have her right eye tear duct probed and a stent placed in the upper duct. (The one she had in her lower and upper duct a few years ago, didn’t survive her constant eye rubbing and it ended up slicing her lower duct and tearing out.) She has had chronic conjunctivitis since. So here we were today, trying another route to get her eye healthy. Since she was already under, the doctor also did a more accurate exam of her eyes. Good to note that while her vision keeps declining, her eye pressures look great.
Now, really, I could stop at just her life verse directed at me, in such an obvious way, as God’s reminder that He holds Kimmy in His presence. I really did receive His words for me this morning with tenderness. But my Abba Father knows my heart and wants to show me more of His mercy and teach me how much He loves me, just as I am; broken.
When I woke up Kimmy this morning the first thing out of her mouth was, “Tell the doctor; No (anesthesia) mask.” She knows when she gets “the mask” it means she is in a scary room with loud machines and she wakes up in pain. I asked if she wanted to pray and ask Jesus to give her His peace and help her to be brave. She said, “Yes.” Todd gave her another pep talk. “Instead of being afraid of the mask, tell the doctor, “Bring it on.”"
At the hospital, I learned a lot about God, as I often do when I allow myself to just let Kimmy be free and watch her. Once we arrived at the hospital, she was a little nervous and the first thing she did was go to the admit desk and told the clerk “No mask, right?” After my explanation, the woman offered her the sticker choices and said, “Since you have to have a mask today, you can choose one.” Kimmy said, “I need two, one for Caleb and one for James.” (Always thinking of others, sacrificing her own.) Then she looked up and said to the woman, “Oh, you need a hug,” and walked around the desk and gave her a big hug and said “I love you.” The woman told her that she had made her day. I’m not sure of the last time that you or I gave a complete stranger a hug and reminded them they are loved…but Kimmy does this often. (A heavenly messenger)
I could tell you about all the other encounters she had today, but that would take a lot of typing, and I might sound like an annoying mom, gushing over her child. Neither of us wants that.
I will tell you that Kimmy overcame her fear of masks and did tell the anesthesiologist “Bring it on” when the time came to fall asleep. Once her hand fell out of mine and her eyes closed, I kissed her cheek and left a tear.
When it was time to leave the nurse made the mistake of asking Kimmy how she wanted to leave. Kimmy insisted she needed a wheelchair for me to escort her to the car. She does have a flair for drama and loves sympathy when she doesn’t feel good. Coincidentally, my friend Sue, mom of Megan, another frequent flyer in the OR was on campus in the lower waiting room so we stopped in to give her a hug and see how Megan was doing.
That is not just random information by the way. The delay was timely. You see God had another reminder of how much He knows my heart. As we finally pulled out of the parking garage, and I became undistracted from following the circling “one way” sign’s and paying my fee at the toll booth; an old familiar song began to play as if it were waiting for me on K-Love. Mercy Me’s “I can only Imagine.”
If you knew me back in 2002, that is THE song I played OVER and OVER in my car, LOUD and on constant REPEAT when I made the commute from my house to the hospital during those critical first months of Kimmy’s life. I never knew if my leaving her side meant she would let go of this life and continue on whole and healed in eternity. “I can only imagine” became MY song to comfort my soul.
At first, I used to think that song talked about “when you die and are in the presence of God.” But as I played it over and over, God told me that the lyrics meant “presently.” As I sang through tears back in those weary days, He taught me that Kimmy was already in His presence, and that He walks by her side, she dances in His presence….and that WE TOO are in His presence; presently.
My Abba knows my heart. Today, He bookended Kimmy’s minor surgery with Psalm 147:3, her life verse, and His song for me. What a joy to drive home and have Kimmy sing along to “Our song”, at the top of our lungs and understand it.
