I’m not a fan of rollercoasters. I never really liked the idea of them, but a close call years ago sealed the deal. We were visiting my grandparents and the fair was in town. I was so excited to go and see what they were all about because I had never been to one. While we were there, I was somehow convinced to ride the rollercoaster. It was your typical fair rollercoaster with a track that creaked and groaned as you slowly ascended, leaving you with a less than confident feeling that it could withstand a train of cars hurtling around it at high speeds. I made it to the end and and resolved in my mind that that would most likely be the last time I ever rode a rollercoaster.
That night we were home at my grandparent’s house and, as was the custom, we were watching the 10 o’clock news before bed. I always loved going to visit my grandparents because we got to stay up and I felt very grown up watching the late news. The familiar intro played and Dan Miller filled our screen with the top story of the night...the derailment of a rollercoaster at the county fair!!! The very rollercoaster that I had clung to as it creaked and groaned it’s way to the top. Needless to say, I was traumatized. The knowledge that shortly after I disembarked it had left the tracks, injuring numerous people, ensured the end of my rollercoaster riding days.
Since then I have avoided them at all costs. Really high highs and rushing lows just aren't my thing. I prefer to live simply, with my feet firmly planted on the ground! If you know me well, you know this applies to life in general for me. I don’t need mountaintop experiences and I try not to wallow in the valley. I’ve had tough things to deal with in my own life and as I’ve walked with others, but I’ve often thanked the Lord that I haven’t had anything really hard happen to me or those I hold closest to my heart.
That changed on April 3, 2019 when my baby girl, Hannah, was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis. I had seen the results of her sweat test and was pretty sure we would soon have a positive diagnosis, but all that was confirmed when the pulmonologist called me early that evening. In a grave voice he said she did have CF and he would like her admitted to the hospital that night because she was quite ill! I can’t remember all he said because I became less aware of his words and more aware of my own personal rollercoaster beginning to unlock and veer off the tracks. We thought we were going to have to stay in town a few extra days, and instead we were told she was being admitted for a 2 week stay at the Mayo Hospital.
The first couple of days were an overwhelming whirlwind of examinations, information and little to no sleep, but I felt at peace. This morning I woke up sad and mad and have had to struggle through the majority of the day. I take comfort in the knowledge that God is not offended by my struggle and that He is actually camped out in the middle of it with me. I know we are entering new territory with a huge learning curve and that there will be many hard days. I am confident, though, that God is still as sovereign as he was before we boarded that plane to head north and that He loves Hannah even more than Tim and I do.
We so appreciate all the calls, texts, meals, care, concern and especially the prayers. We are reminded, yet again, what an amazing community the Lord has allowed us to be a part of and we do not take it for granted! Tonight we take comfort in knowing we’re one day closer to coming home!
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