Concrete Angel

My little Wild One in our Concrete Jungle.

Strong child who has endured more than you'll ever know.

Beyond-this-world-wiser than you'd ever believe.

My Angel

How I adore this child.  And how I thank God for every day he gives her life and breath and being!

Another hurdle scaled today.  Another bridge crossed in this heart-journey.

A new hospital in a new country.  A new doctor of a different nationality.  Again giving thanks to God for a good report.  Another ECHO in which, for the first time, she shied away from letting the doctor lift her shirt to examine her heart by ultrasound.  She's growing.  Maturing.  Becoming more self aware and less innocent and naive.  

And my own heart starts to to nurse that old familiar ache that this will always, forever be a part of her life.  Invasive procedures.  Embarrassing examinations.  And scars to bear.

The questions started at bath time this week.  Drying frothy bubbles off of her shoulders, she began the dialog that I always knew would come….that nearly 6 years still hadn't prepared me for.

She stands looking in the mirror and I brace myself for the questions…and I pray for the answers.  

How do you respond to a child who wants to know why she's the only one in a family who has a "zipper" down her front?  And what to say to console her when she asks if she'll have to have more surgeries….and I just can't promise what I want to!

She's known her story forever, but age is sparking new questions and we are trying not to fan them into fear!

We talked about Maggie.  About Derek and Lorelei.  And about Annabelle too and others.  And I assure her that she is indeed not the only one.  That many others carry the same beautiful evidences of Gods healing and miracles in their lives.  That others have stories too and that she is beautiful and perfect just exactly the way God made her.  Her scar in fact makes her more beautiful because it serves as a reminder of how clearly God has spared her life and that He has a plan for her.  I assure her that she has a story to tell.  And that she is not alone.  That her place in our family is part of Gods beautiful plan.

And I pray that my words will be enough to convince not only her, but…….me.  

Because sometimes I forget too….that all these aches and pains and scars and wounds we carry are only temporary tattoos. 

Eternity beckons my heart these days, but until we are Home, this is the lifelong story of His redeeming work that our Evie girl will carry through her years.  A story of grace.  Of beauty beyond pain.  

You can't have a story of redemption unless there is something to be redeemed from.  

And just as her scar makes her even more precious to me, our wounds cause Him to look on us with great care and compassion!

Thanking God for scars tonight…We all have them.  Some are physical.  Some emotional.  Some of us have hidden ones.  Some wear them with pride.  Some are self inflicted.  Some are inflicted upon us.  Some are angry red, violent lines or some are soft, silver streaks.  But all scars carry the potential of healing, restoration and redemption when we invite the Great Physician to touch the deepest parts of our pain!

Thanking God for her scar and all that it means.

Her beautiful story etched down her chest…engraved in my heart….written for His glory.