10 Year Lesson

I was writing in my journal this morning and I wrote down the date, December 21st. I paused for a moment remembering this date and that ten years ago today my dad was lying on the bathroom floor, gray and sallow, and (unbeknownst to us), having a heart attack. I remember bringing him a cup of water out of a plastic flowered cup as he was pressing his clammy face to the cool hard tile. Our family was going over to my grandmothers and my mother, flustered with four whiney children was upset at my father for leaving her with just the children during this holiday outing. Little did we know however that by the time we would get back, my dad would not have gotten better. His eyes were sunken in and his color was an ashy hue. A doctor call, and short drive to the hospital later my dad was admitted to the hospital with chest pains and within just a few hours after some tests and a nitroglycerin patch the doctors told my mom that my father was having a heart attack and was going to need a triple bypass surgery.

2 days later my father had the surgery.

He was in ICU on Christmas Eve.

And in recovery on Christmas Day.

I remember through this span of surgery and recovery we were shown an endless amount of love and care from others. People visiting with us, praying with us, feeding us and trying to entertain us. Although I was a child, I had a much greater idea of what was going on. My 3rd grade heart was burdened and somber with the thought of what could happen to my father. The head of the household. The bear in our family den. My daddy.

Our foundations as a family were being shaken and all I remember I could do was turn to books to read. I retreated into the pages of the novels family and friends had bought for me. I read to a reclusive state. I detached. I see now that as a child, I didn't quite understand how to cast your burdens, so I bottled them up.

Eventually things got better. We opened our Christmas presents in the hospital room and the kindness and gentleness of the nurses and doctors on that floor resonated with me as a child and still resonates with me today.

I suppose this day has reminded me of how much things have changed, how much the Lord has brought me through and how he has always always had his hand on me. Being in college now, I marvel at all that has happened in the last 10 years.

Another near death experience of my father.
Lost jobs. Money troubles.
Middle School. High School.
New Friends. Lost friends.
World Travels.
New experiences.
Car wrecks.
A rebellious streak.
Heartbreak.
Disappointments.
Moving. Moving again.
And College.

I vaguely remember this time 10 years ago thinking about what life would be like when I was in 'college'. Of course it's very different now than what I had imagined, but I wouldn't have changed anything about the last 10 years.

In the heartbreak and disappointments, the Lord has drawn me closer. In my rebellion hes broken me, and humbled me. In my new experiences and travels he's given me lifelong companions and friendships.

I believe it was that day 10 years ago that the Lord started to shape me. It was that day that the Lord started to reveal himself to me. Reveal his true character. He was patient with me. Patient with my hard and scared 9 year old heart. Patient through my rebellion. Patient through my hurt. He was so patient to wait for me. He was always near, always present, always waiting and never letting me stray too far.

 I still feel like my 9 year old self sometimes. With a scared and heavy heart, I want to close up and detach, but it's taken me 10 years to find my true peace and rest within the Lord.

During the holidays, people always want to talk about what we are grateful for. Grateful for family. For friends. Grateful for the gifts we get. But truly, what I am most grateful for is the Lord.

He has been so faithful to me. So good to my family. He has brought me out of a place of darkness and crowned me with joy.

Love, your ashes that have been turned into beauty, Shelby