The last few weeks have felt like an emotional month for me. Luke had his decompression surgery Monday, Feb 2. Leading up to that date, I had spread the word all over social media for anyone and everyone to pray for him. I received messages and comments from Chicago all the way to New Zealand; so many, even many I have never met, said they had heard what we were going through and were praying. What an immeasurable comfort to my soul to know that hundreds were going to God the Father on behalf of my son and our family.
Luke’s surgery was February 2. As I helped him slip into the hospital gown in the pre-op room, surrounded by the sterile antiseptic smell of the hospital, the moment I had dreaded for weeks weighed down my movements. The moment that played in my head over and over again in a tortuous spiral. It was the moment when they would come and wheel my little boy away and I would have to say goodbye, let go and place him into the hands of the medical team.
I often asked myself what would I say? How do you express in words a love so utterly and achingly deep that words cannot begin to touch? What if something happens and he doesn’t come back my sweet little Luke? The Luke that can do amazing impersonations of characters on TV and in movies and send us all into peals of laughter. The Luke that builds and creates with Legos for hours and comes out with a Lego restaurant complete with grill area and bun warmer. The Luke that writes in his devotional journal about his understanding of the Savior and this deep love for God that is very rare for a ten year old. The Luke that prayed for all the ones that have been praying for him saying that he knew they too have struggles. He asked God to bless and encourage them just as they were blessing and encouraging him through prayer.
That dreaded moment came. I looked down into his round blueberry eyes, and unsuccessfully choking back tears, I kissed his soft cheek and told him how very proud I was of him for being so brave and that I loved him so very much and with a wet smile I told him I would be right here when he got back. I will not lie. It was really hard for me to watch them wheel him around the corner and out of sight. But in that dreaded moment, I felt God nudge my heart and remind me that He promised Luke would never be alone. My spirit felt so much comfort in being reminded that my wonderful Lord goes with my children where I cannot. Deuteronomy 3:16 “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.”
Luke went through surgery with no complications. He had some pain but his recovery is nothing short of phenomenal. He was walking the next morning up and down the PICU with his physical therapist. His PICU nurse said she had never seen a child do so well and recover so quickly. They moved him into a regular room after therapy that day. And the next day, just 2 days after brain surgery, the neurosurgeon released him to go home.
So now my thoughts turn to prayer. Actually, my thoughts go to all the numerous prayers that were prayed over my son and my family. I am finding it hard to put into words the emotions that bubble up in my heart when I think about it all. I know that there has been so many times when I felt that no matter what I prayed, that my words were not heard and that they went no farther than the ceiling.
I don’t have all the answers of why. Why do these things happen? Why pray? All I can say is God used it all. All the prayers touched me and encouraged me that people do care. All the prayers touched Luke because it showed him he really does matter. And seeing Luke recover so quickly and miraculously touched all those that prayed that God really really does hear and answers in a way that no one can say it was done by human strength, but to show His glory, His strength. And so I will continue to pray. Even when I am not “feeling” it. Even when the words don’t seem right. Even when God’s answer is different than my wants. Thank you so much Father God that it is truly not my will but Thy will.