“I aspire to be a giver. A giver of love, a giver of hope, and a signpost that points to Christ, the ultimate giver.” (giving)
“Sometimes asking for help is the bravest thing you can do. You don’t have to face life alone.” (receiving)
“Learn to light a candle in the darkest moments of someone’s life. Be the light that helps others see; it is what gives life its deepest significance.” ― Roy T. Bennett (giving)
“Be strong enough to stand alone, smart enough to know when you need help, and humble enough to accept it.” (receiving)
During my life there are many times I have been a giver, ministering to others needs. Just as frequently I have been on the receiving end, allowing others to step into my darkest hours and bring joy from ashes. Some days, like today, I have lived and walked through both almost in a simultaneous dance. Being able to step into both roles equally is important. Millie’s illness taught David and I both that we should not steal the blessings of allowing others to serve us. It also taught us that the time will come when we are to be the blessing givers to other hurting people.
My morning started with an hour-long drive into the city for my insurance wellness check. This annual event usually takes less than 10 minutes, but today was almost 40 minutes long. After I checked in, I noticed a friend’s hubby across the room and felt a prompting to go hug him as a fellow (expectant) grieving parent. I don’t usually hug men not my husband, but this warranted reaching out and telling him to take that hug straight home to his lovely wife who is carrying their precious baby that has received a terminal diagnosis. The waiting for loss can be excruciating… I know that all too well.
Then as my turn to speak to the wellness doctor came, he ministered to me. He listened about my precious Millie’s life. He asked me if he could pray over me right there and in his prayer he prayed for the people that Millie’s story would reach—He prayed for YOU! All without me telling him Millie even had a page, let alone so many people who followed along and loved her so.
As I left the appointment I was only a few miles from Children’s hospital. I immediately felt a need to go visit one of my fellow cancer mom friends and her beautiful daughter. They have received some pretty heartbreaking news this week and I remember all too well that sinking feeling of wanting to do something, anything—yet there is nothing you can do of your own power. Friends they need prayer. For their privacy I won’t share names, but Jesus knows when you lift her up to him and beg for healing. He is able!
Before I got into the hospital to visit with them, I drove around the parking garage and cried. My eyes welled up realizing that for the first time in almost 2 years I would be going upstairs to “10 West”, our home away from home. I can still hear Millie flinging open the doors to the floor and announcing, “I home to my hospital!” as she ran to embrace her nurses she loved so.
As I drove in circles searching for the elusive parking spot, I called my dear friend who prayed audibly over me, understanding the strength I needed to make myself go upstairs without my girl. Every hallway, each elevator, the rooms, even the colored tiles on the floor all screams memories of her and whispers the reminder that she is not here now. As the prayer ended, I exited the car a little more ready to face what was ahead. I entered the floor looking for my friend. I first met the nurses who knew me—the ones who cared for and loved Millie. They immediately embraced me and asked how I was doing being back up there. It was deeper than ‘How are you?’ rather it was “How are you handling this?” I’m grateful to be seen by others who understand my hurts.
Next, I located my sweet friend who happened to be with another mama friend of mine. More hugs! Then God gave me the opportunity to listen to her heart and truly see her need, just as mine had been seen moments earlier. We laughed and talked and even cried a bit for almost 3 hours. A precious 3 hours that I was so glad to give to my friend.
While walking through the hallways, I was able to meet another new friend. One that I have talked to on the phone since her 2-year-old was diagnosed last fall but had yet to meet in person. The little boy Tucker and I had a great talk, along with his big brother, about all things farm life. We discussed all our animals we had on the farm, how the racoons ate the chicks (at their house too!) and how mean roosters can be. They were delightful children who did a great job holding a conversation without being intimated. It made me smile.
As I headed back to my car for the ride home, I reflected on many things. Pulling up to my mailbox I found a letter addressed to me. Upon opening it, a precious gift slid out. My little friend---Millie’s friend--- Ady had made Millie a picture. Her mama Ashley knew my heart needed to see it and she was right. Anything from Ady or about her life brings me such joy. Ady is a survivor from the same cancer Millie fought. Ady has the kindest and most compassionate heart that seems to know when “Millie’s mama and daddy” need a hug. She is a blessing to our life!
Yes, throughout the day I was able to give love, comfort, even laughter to others. I was also able to receive joy, compassion, and understanding from others. The ebbs and flows of grief, are much like the ebbs and flows of life. There is a place and time for each. Accepting them gently allows us to embrace what other’s have for us.
“To everything there is a season, A time for every purpose under heaven:” –Eccl 3:1
~Telling Christ’s story {Because of Millie}
Blessings sweet friends…
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☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★
I still believe in Millie’s Miracle
☆｡･:*:･ﾟ Hebrews 11:1 ｡･:*:･ﾟ☆
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