“For a thousand years in Your sight are but as yesterday when it is past, or as a watch in the night…so teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.”- Psalm 90:4, 14
This has quite possibly felt like the longest week of our entire lives.
When Wednesday hit, Hugh looked at me and muttered, “Surely it has to be the weekend already!?”
The moments have absolutely creeped by- most of them painful.
“And the people became impatient on the way…and spoke against God and against Moses, “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness?”- Numbers 21:5
There have been times in this journey with our girls in which I stop trusting in God’s steps and, instead, start panicking. I don’t tend to get nervous or weary in the exact moments themselves; it is thinking about the future and more moments similar to these that I begin to feel faint.
“Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; His understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and to Him who has no might He increases strength.”- Isaiah 40:26-29
The Israelites had heard.
They had known.
They were given a pillar of cloud by day and fire by night.
Manna in the morning to provide their daily bread.
The Red Sea had literally parted and become dry in order for them to pass.
But those current moments.
Oh, those weary moments.
We have amazing community both near and far. People do their best to love us well and be the hands, feet and heart of Jesus both in word and deed. Yet, people are people and have their own lives and only so much serving can be done. There is a certain point where friends and family simply aren’t meant to understand, I think. And-when you are on your fifteenth crisis of the year, suddenly crisis stops feeling like crisis to both those around you and yourself and you simply get sick of being served.
Am I making sense to anyone?
Even though our drama is not made up- it still starts to feel like drama and you just get over it.
I know He says His plans for us are good yet,
“Why did You bring us up our of Egypt to die?”
There is not a way to explain what sickness looks like in our home. When your children cannot sit up themselves, every single cough requires assistance. We have spent hours and hours and hours, both day and night, watching Ally and Bailey Grace suffer greatly this week. They have coughed until they have coughed up blood- numerous times. We have gingerly given them pedialyte through their gtubes by a small syringe- only to have these small amounts coughed up. We have watched nurses try time and time again to find a vein that hasn’t been blown- stabbing over and over again as we hold down our already suffering little girls. We have seen them seize without end- illness causing their brains to misfire more than usual. And, while they may be twins, they are individual children with individual moments and needs- often occurring either one after the other or back to back. Watching and caring for one child going through the pain of this week would be hard- doing so for two is quite literally exhausting and excruciating. It has quite literally been a full-time infirmary both here and at the hospital.
In these moments, we have been sustained.
It is not these particular days that have made us weak- it is knowing that in the aftermath- our normal includes many more days like this.
It is recognizing that the seizures will still come.
It is the reality that our girls are going to suffer in many ways each and every day to come- bronchiolitis or not.
Oh, my weary, hurting momma soul.
“Satisfy us in the morning with Your steadfast love, that we may rejoice and be glad all our days…make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us.”- Psalm 90:14-15
As I was meditating on Psalm 90 this morning, God revealed so many life-giving truths to me. Friends, if a thousand years in His sight are but one day- maybe the secret to experiencing joy in this life is to see each day with that exact brevity.
Maybe our perspective and vision needs to be enlightened not only by His truth but through His heavenly hourglass.
You see, while this week has felt never-ending- God tells me it was but a breath.
And- while I would be lying if I said future days don’t feel daunting- thanks be to God that I have Jesus as both an example and an ever-living, always-present Spirit within me to carry, guide, assure and sustain.
“…let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfector of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him, endured the cross…”- Hebrews 12:2
God’s Word doesn’t say enjoyed the cross- it writes endured.
This tells me that Jesus gets it.
He is walking these breath-moments with us.
And— when these light and momentary afflictions are finished— we have eternity with no more tears, no more pain, no more suffering.
We simply have to endure a few more moments, each and every time.
who worthily connects this brevity of life with His recognition of sin? (Psalm 90:11)
We cannot fathom all that we have been saved from.
We will never understand the depth of our sin nor the magnitude of His grace.
This calls me to cry out,
“Let the beauty and delightfulness and favor of the Lord our God be upon us; confirm and establish the work of our hands- yes, the work of our hands, confirm and establish it.” (verse 17)
Lord, establish (initiate and bring about and achieve permanent recognition for) all that we do.
In our eating and drinking and dancing and celebrating- establish the work of our hands.
In our flipping of channels and scrolling through newsfeeds and posting of pictures- establish the work of our hands.
In our driving and working- establish the work of our hands.
In our touching of grains of sand and our hugging of a loved one- establish the work of our hands.
In our caregiving- establish the work of our hands.
In our suffering- establish the works of our hands.
In our living and in our dying- establish the work of our hands—
in all that we do-
establish the work of our hands that we may praise You both now and forevermore.
2 thoughts on “Numbered Days.”
Morgan and Hugh, you are heroes in this struggle and my thoughts and prayers are constantly with you. Your mommy and daddy souls shine brightly in this long night.
Jane and Bruno
Hi Morgan. It’s Cami Perry. I introduced myself to you yesterday as I was leaving the imaging center at Baptist (I’m Abby Allen’s friend). I was in a bit of a fog and I asked my husband if I said anything weird but he said he thought that was an ordained moment. Not that I know anything of what you are going through but at that moment I didn’t know what was in store for the results that I was going to get later. Although it wasn’t what they originally thought was wrong with me, I’m still frustrated by the unknown. I’m thankful for God’s sweet assurance. And I am struggling that I’m not more excited about the results from my MRI. Don’t you feel in these intimate moments when you are clinging to God that they are really difficult to have within the worldly stuff? I keep thinking how everyone stopped for a brief moment when they thought there was something seriously wrong but then the world comes creeping back in. Sorry to ramble but all this to say, know that I hear you. And when a day or a week seems infinitely long to you and your suffering… Thankful that you know God sustains you. Thank you for your words. Praying for you that you will continue to boldly speak in the name of Jesus and for mercy and grace for your family