IT IS WELL

“When sorrows like sea billows roll…

Whatever my lot, You have taught me to say,

It is well, it is well with my soul.”

Our neurologist stopped by again today just to say hi, and our few questions almost immediately brought the words, “I hate to continue to be the one who bears bad news…”. He reiterated the fact that Brock will have to show us what he can do- whether he will walk or talk; none are guaranteed. “It doesn’t take much to be a baby” and “despite the fact that he looks great, it doesn’t change the fact that his brain has suffered a huge attack” were other phrases from our conversation. I want the doctors to be wrong. I need them to be wrong. I struggle to think of life without what has always been normal. Toting our family to youth camp up in the mountains is not really a possibility when it would take well over a 30 minute drive to get to a hospital. What I would give to not have to explain to Brynlee and Brielle why their brother is “different”; to not have to consider who would care for Brock if something were to happen to both of us; to not think about the stares of people that are sure to ensue if the neurologists are right about his prognosis and not meeting milestones. Will I be able to attend Sunday school classes? Will I ever be able to work outside the home? What will summers look like? Selfish questions. Honest questions. I dread feeling out of place, and needing to constantly give explanations. None of that is my current reality. While I in no way want to limit Brock, I certainly don’t want my expectations so high that I feel like he has failed. I want his best to always be good enough for me. I want to live life like this didn’t happen, to take him places and see him experience the world, and to do that as a family. I want to still have date nights and anniversary getaways. It’s overwhelming how much will change because of one tiny germ that wreaked havoc on Brock’s body.  

I look at our family Christmas picture this year and I weep at what was so perfect. I desperately wish that this was someone else’s story (or at least, NOT OURS- I wouldn’t wish this pain of uncertainty on anyone else), and that I could just have a supporting role. We have been so blessed by those of you following and praying. Please don’t stop… we need those prayers.

Obviously it doesn't seem that all is "well with our souls" at the moment, but we pray that God leads our hearts to that place whether or not it comes down to the worst case scenarios. 

"Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come, 

Let this blest assurance control, 

That Christ has regarded my helpless estate, 

And hath shed His own blood for my soul."

~Brad and Taryn