I have a love-hate relationship with social media. On one hand, Instagram and Facebook can be time-suckers, relationship-killers, and potential breeding grounds for comparison and judgement. My mind and heart need limits and boundaries and down-time from screens and technology. But, one thing I do appreciate about social media is how it can serve as an online scrapbook of sorts. Posting on blogs, Facebook, or Instagram is a much easier way to document our days, our Big Moments, rather than ways of the past such as Creative Memories. Typing those two words, Creative Memories, makes me a little nauseous. Jesus, take the wheel. I can write words on the internet all day long, but please don’t ask me to cut zig-zag corners and strategically place stickers all around one big gigantic picture of my two-year-old licking her ice cream cone. The very thought of this task makes me want to cry a million tears (and would also take me 542 years to complete, so the odds are not in my favor.).
I digress.
Some of you know we have been praying, for years, for Clara, our oldest daughter with a rare genetic syndrome, to talk, and for her communication to develop and understanding to increase. Specifically, we have prayed for God to open Clara’s mouth and allow her to speak with words. He has answered this specific prayer twice, when Clara vocalized the words, “Hi,” and “No,” when prompted by her teacher at school.
Well, a few weeks ago, God answered this prayer again. No, not by opening her mouth in our presence. But, through the form of increased awareness played out with the push of a few powerful buttons on her AAC device (Augmentative and alternative communication). So, we are marking the moment, friends, writing it down intentionally for the internet to read, as a permeant memorial so to speak. Our very own modern-day Joshua stone.
In Joshua 4:1-8 God commands the Israelites to cross the Jordan River (which He has stopped miraculously). To commemorate their crossing, God instructs Joshua to mark the moment by choosing 12 stones from the middle of the dried-up river. The Message translation of this portion of scripture describes the scene . . .
4 1-3 When the whole nation was finally across, God spoke to Joshua: “Select twelve men from the people, a man from each tribe, and tell them, ‘From right here, the middle of the Jordan where the feet of the priests are standing firm, take twelve stones. Carry them across with you and set them down in the place where you camp tonight.’” 4-7 Joshua called out the twelve men whom he selected from the People of Israel, one man from each tribe. Joshua directed them, “Cross to the middle of the Jordan and take your place in front of the Chest of God, your God. Each of you heft a stone to your shoulder, a stone for each of the tribes of the People of Israel, so you’ll have something later to mark the occasion. When your children ask you, ‘What are these stones to you?’ you’ll say, ‘The flow of the Jordan was stopped in front of the Chest of the Covenant of God as it crossed the Jordan—stopped in its tracks. These stones are a permanent memorial for the People of Israel.’”
An intentional, permanent memorial.
Back to Clara . . .
I drove down highway 59 a few weeks ago and noticed she was acting a bit off for her usual drive-to-school self. Her face pale, a little zoned out and well, just not typical Clara. No fever (Why yes, I did put the car in park once securely stopped at a stoplight and reached waaaaaaay in the backseat to feel her head. I do not recommend this.). Going against that mama-gut feeling I dropped her off anyway, told her aide she seemed a little tired, and saw her out of the car.
At 1:00pm I receive a call from Clara’s lead therapist. . .
“Hi Brittnie. We wanted to let you know Clara isn’t herself today. She looks pale and has zoned out multiple times. She is just not acting normal. She was even spitting out her food at lunch and wouldn’t even touch her fruit.”
(Clara not scarfing down fruit is a red flag. We basically have to take out a loan to fund the strawberry and blackberry bill.)
Minus the food spitting, all the very things I noticed on the drive to school were now confirmed by her teacher.
“I also wanted to let you know that when we gave her the iPad and asked, “What do you want?”, she pushed “I feel sad. I’m upset. I feel sick. I want to go home.”
I’m sorry. I just fainted. What was that you said? She pushed all of those buttons, to express HER FEELINGS IN CONTEXT??? As in, on her own, on a day that you and I BOTH NOTICED PHYSICAL SIGNS OF ILLNESS? THIS HAS NEVER ONCE HAPPENED. NOT ONCE.
“I feel like we need to positively reinforce her for vocalizing her feelings and needs. Would you like to come get her?”
Do I want to come get her? I. Am. On. My. Way.
Friends, we pray and pray and pray some more for the things our hearts deeply desire. Sometimes God answers with a yes, a no, or a not yet. And sometimes, He answers yes with a twist. Sometimes, He answers yes in a way that forces us to intentionally look outside the box of ideal answers and praise Him for the sideways course His answer took.
I don’t want to miss the twist, friends. I want my eyes and heart open to the ways He is working day in and day out, even if His works differ from my initial prayer lifted.
And when He answers, regardless of the how, I want to intentionally mark it down. I want to intentionally set up stones of remembrance to say, “Look at what God did here!” I want to leave a trail of modern-day Joshua stones. I want to leave behind a stone-filled legacy so that my children and their children will always know that our God is good, and He is always moving on our behalf, and that sometimes His answers don’t come in the form of a straight line.
Just please don’t ask me to do so via a larger than life scrapbook.
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How do you remember God’s kindness? How do you document His answers for the generation behind you? What step of intentionality can you take today to tune-in to his “yesses with a twist?”
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