Why?

I'm pretty good at being my Bug's mother. I handle things well most days. I scoop her up when she's having a seizure and cuddle with her until she's done napping the trauma of it off. I swipe her VNS numerous times a day. I listen to her suffer from the side effects of medication. I debate over decisions in her medical care...knowing that there really isn't a "great" option. I cry as I watch her almost stop breathing because a seizure is so severe. I've been there before...so, it's supposed to be easy...right? Wrong. I get frustrated watching children her age and seeing them do the things my Bug should be. I get overjoyed at seeing her accomplish tasks that others find mediocre. I don't ever hear the words "I love you" come from her lips. Those lips, however, often find mine on their own with a sweet, slobbery kiss. She doesn't speak with words, but her eyes hold a story like you've never been told. At night, I'm often scared to sleep, for fear of her being alone in the night. I struggle with not always knowing exactly what she wants. I travel 5 times a week to carry her to therapy, and all the while wondering if she'd rather just be home. I take car rides to just calm her down...not always having a destination. I watch her anticipation build on our journey to Popo and Baday's house...her face is sheer perfection when she gets to their door. I hear laughter when her sister happens to tickle her funny bone. I get countless hours of a sleeping little one on my chest. I cry when I am exhausted and then remember that she has faced more in the day than I have. I seek help when I am burdened or too tired to do it anymore on my own. I watch peoples stares when she's flapping her arms or covering her ears. I get saddened when people stop to talk to her and wonder why she doesn't respond. I am calm when she has a seizure, but inside I continue to break. I smile when I hear people say that she is blessed...because I know the opposite to be true. I am blessed.

There are so many days, including today, when I want to ask God why. Why does she have to be over-medicated, have surgery, continue to be in a world without words, struggle to accomplish every single goal, have seizures...have pain. Why? He holds the power to heal her today. Why won't He? I truly can't answer the question why, but I do know that He can and will one day...maybe not here on earth, but in our forever home.

I know that her being my child has changed me. I no longer see things the way I once did. She has been the light in my life...she shows Jesus in the way she lights up with someone new, the way she hugs your neck and holds on for dear life, the way those little hands hold yours to make you clap...she longs to know you. He longs to know you. Through her I have come to know my Savior in ways that I honestly would not have without her life. Her existence has caused me to seek Him and His guidance in the smallest details--which is right where He is.

So, yes, today...I am struggling. Tomorrow, I may again ask why, but I know that He's holding me. He's holding her. He knows why. He heard my heart. That is all I need to know for today.

"I love the Lord because He hears my voice and my prayer for mercy. Because He bends down to listen, I will pray as long as I have breath!" Psalm 116:1-2

Much love,
~K