Discovering the Path of Grace

Opportunities for grace, depending on our perspective, often feel like being hit with the rushing water from a broken dam. When we are going our direction in life and God changes our direction, that change can seem none too gentle. It is only after we submit to our new direction that we have the chance to look around and enjoy the path. Not unlike the difference between flowing with the river instead of fighting against the rapids.
God really does intend all things for our good and his glory (Rom. 8:28-30, Rom. 5:2), which, incidentally, are one and the same.

J was in the NICU in Peoria for 17 weeks. I saw her for the first time two days after she was born. I was by myself. That was a mistake. There is no way that the pictures I had seen could have prepared me. All of the tubes and monitors and machines didn't phase me. I had worked in hospitals from Jr High on. But her size floored me. Her head was smaller than my fist and I wear a size 5 ring. Her fingers were as thin as a cooked spaghetti noodle. I could barely breathe. I couldn't talk to her. I couldn't touch her. I was terrified of her. And yet, like a lioness, I wanted to throw my body over her and protect her from everyone and everything in that room.
Over the next several days, I became accustomed to life in the surreal world of the NICU. It has a pulse and breath of it's own and time stands still in it's dim light. I learned to touch my daughter and found my voice. I sang, told stories and talked to her. Then they sent me home. I cried the entire two hour drive away from Peoria. I am crying now as I tell you about it.

The next several weeks were very hard. I tried to be there as much as I could, but I was still recovering from being very ill and having surgery. Finally, things settled into a routine. I would leave Monday morning and stay in Peoria until Wednesday afternoon. Then I would drive home, make sure Chad had clean laundry and food (someone had to stay home and work-they told us she would probably run up bills near the half-million mark!), and then drive back Thursday. Friday night, I would come home again so that Chad and I could go down on Saturday together. I stayed home on Sunday to be in church and rest. I can never express how the prayers of others sustained us during that time. The prayer chain that was started while I was in the helicopter had continued until over sixty churches worldwide were praying for tiny J. It was during this time that we began to learn about surrenduring to our circumstances in order to benefit from His Grace. We all receive God's grace, but are we aware of it? This is what I call the Path of Grace. More on that later!

We sent out a newsletter to update people. I am going to attempt to include them here!