June 12, 2011 (Day 24) Open the door

On May 3, 2011, we closed on our very first home. Since it was a foreclosure we worked around the clock day and night as we tried to make it ready to move into as quickly as possible. With each day we were closer to making our dream our reality: Home Ownership! Within the first week of owning our home we painted every wall with lots of help from family and friends. Jackson’s room got painted a special pewter gray that I had thought would have a calming affect for a nursery. We were all excited and set for a move in date of May 22^nd.

Then on May 19^th, only four days before move in everything changed. “You have to make a decision if it’s worth it to continue the pregnancy at this point knowing the complications and the risks. In the state of Texas you have about 7 more days….” The words from our doctor were like being hit with a truck. The tears came faster, the pain grew larger, and all I could do was hold my hand up to stop him from finishing his sentence.

Jackson’s bedroom door has remained closed in our home. The first week we were in our home my wonderful father in law stayed with us and I will admit that I had other family members make his bed ready for him in Jackson’s room. The truth of the matter is that I haven’t stepped foot in his room since I found out about his diagnosis. As soon as my father in law left, the door was quickly closed again.

Starting Monday (June 6^th) of this week the Lord began to ask me to “open the door.” All week I pushed down His words and went on with my week. Every day I felt him pulling me toward Jackson’s room and yet I just couldn’t respond. I didn’t even tell my husband about it because I knew he would open it (oh how I wish I had his heart of obedience.) Finally Friday rolled around and we had great friends spend the night with us and we needed to get their bed ready for them. This time there was no one else to make the bed for me so I was forced to go into the room.

As I opened the door I felt pain, gut wrenching pain. This is Jackson’s room. It always will be whether I ever get to bring him home. Being faced with that reality in a very tangible way is the reason I never wanted to step foot in it. “God, what if he never sees his room. What if I never rock my baby to sleep in this room?” Even after they left on Saturday I went back and closed the door. It wasn’t until this morning (Sunday) that God woke me up at 4:30 and told me to” get out of bed and open the door.” I laid in bed until 6 fighting him and then finally gave up. I can be quite stubborn when I want to be.

So here I am writing in Jackson’s room. I look around and all I see is broken dreams. God quickly reminds me that this is all part of His perfect plan. He spoke to me, “Get on your knees before me and fight for your son.” I tend to be practical in my point of views and so naturally I think the best way to fight for my son is through researching, scheduling, and targeting key doctors. These things are all extremely important as his care requires the utmost attention to detail. Those are all things I can do and God has gifted me to do. But who is praying??

The greatest battle is right here in this room. Will I choose to believe? Will I choose to respond? Will I choose to be obedient at whatever cost? So here I am tears rolling down my face as I type, Jackson kicking away inside me, and the battle cry being sounded. “This is where it all gets done; Four little pewter gray walls, a broken heart, and a mighty God.” This is where science ends and faith begins.