Reflections and update

I have known the day was coming for Brandon to be in a wheelchair for some time.  I can remember our conversations about the likelihood 10 years ago, back when we were dating.  I remember the time I preformed a foot-washing on Brandon that brought him to near tears because no one had ever touched his feet before, they were hideous to him, something he hid at all costs. 

I remember the first cane he bought, we called it the grandpa because it was the old fashioned hook cane.  He hated it.  When we went on our baby moon to Monteray prior to Hannah's birth we had to buy him a different one because he "forgot" the other one at home (in truth, it embarrassed him) so I shelled out $170 on a hand carved left-handed oriented cane that he strolled around with in pride.  After that, we started a collection of canes.

I remember in 2008 when he had his first surgery.  I remember the arguments we had about keeping his butt in bed for proper recovery, and the stupid tricks he would do on his crutches to show off to hide his embarrassment about needing them.

With each child that we have had, Brandon pressed the ultra sound technician to check the feet of our unborn children, praying that his deformity was not hereditary despite the doctors telling him it wasn't.

I remember in 2009 the arguments we had about the walking boot.  Still over his not wanting to wear it and my insisting he needed it to heal properly.  I remember that in 2009 we was accepted into state disability and the complex emotions we felt over the fact that our government now recognized him as permanently disabled. 

I remember the depression that came soon after he lost the capability to work and "provide" for his family.  I could tell you in detail about the 15 surgeries he has had sense.  I could also tell you the many hurtful comments made from well-meaning "friends" that caused him great turmoil, but he would never mention them as that might show weakness, so he laughed at them, making fun of him.

I can tell you about his battle with addictions-anything and everything that would mask the pain he dealt with every second of his day, no matter how brief the relief.  I can tell you about the debt we accumulated from the online gaming addictions that took his mind off his life.  I can tell you about the alcoholism that lead to not one, but two suicide attempts. 

But the point that brings me to tears to talk about are the ceaseless tears I cried and prayers I pleaded to God, for him to preform a miracle.  Because despite all of Brandon's struggles and faults, I knew without doubt his love for the Lord.  He rang through him in his strengths and screamed out despite his weakness.  Through it all I stored hope in my heart.  I knew God had plans for [our] future, "...plans to help us not to hurt us, plans to give us hope and a future." I prayed the same prayer every night for 8 years: that God would preform a miracle.  That God would reverse the birth defect that caused my husband so much grief, that God would heal Brandon.  I knew Luke 17:6 by heart, and scoured my faith, testing it.  Did I have the faith to heal him? Everything in my being bleeds love for God, I KNOW that could have the power and ability to heal Brandon.  My only question was would he.  And in thinking that he might not, did that mean I did not have faith? Is that why God never healed Brandon? Because I had such little faith after all?

If God chose not to heal Brandon, would I still love and worship God the same? Would I still love Brandon the same?

The answer was a resounding Yes.  Love, true love, is not circumstantial.  True love is unconditional.  I still trust in God.  I still Love Brandon, and ever though God has chosen not to heal Brandon as I had prayed, he has a hand in my future-he is the author. 

God, Brandon and I are a chord of three strands (Ecc. 4:12) and with the three of us, we can do all things. 

Two weeks ago, an unplanned event occurred-something we had talked about in the past but never really considered.  Brandon lost his leg.  With the infection Brandon obtained from the home health care's negligence, the damages were irreversible.  His Right foot was amputated 6 inches below the knee.  And that is where the miracle I prayed for begins. 

Brandon's spirits are high for the most part.  He is active.  He is happy.  Despite well, you know. And the crazy thing is, in two weeks he will have a prosthetic, and could possibly be walking again by Christmas.

This doesn't mean things are always easy.  I praise God, don't read this wrong.  I KNOW GOD has and is answering my prayers, but I find myself crying often.  I mourn the loss.  I ache for him, knowing the difference.  It pains me to see him attempt to kick a ball, step, or cross his legs out of habit and routine only to fail, fall, or frustrate himself.  I cry at the pictures of him walking around on his own two legs, something my kids will only remember from pictures-even though I know that behind the smile in the picture he masked a tremendous amount of pain. 

The phantom pains have begun, he can feel his missing toes wiggle, itch.  He dreams about the foot he no longer has.  I see him wince at the questions his children and children's friends innocently ask "daddy where is your foot? Are you going to get a new one?" I see the look of pity and witness the charity he receives from strangers in public.  But on the other hand, we get EXCELLENT parking now.

It is a new life.  One that is taking more to get used to than I would like.  He is stronger than I, but when he breaks down in the quiet of our home, I am no longer the strong fortress I had been.  I reach breaking points more easily.  It will be easier when he is able to walk again, I believe.  My prayers have changed...I still love God as much as ever, but my compassion for others has evolved, my thankfulness for everything I have been given has increased, my humility....to the point of near brokenness. 

I don't understand why God has chosen this way to be our healing.  But I will honor it.  I don't know what our future holds, but I will trust in him to continue to be my author.  I do know that despite this my marriage is strong-yet another thing to be thankful for. I pray that because of this my children will not grow up ashamed of their dad, but grow to have hearts full of compassion for others with disabilities and personal uniquenesses.  I pray that one day Brandon will stand before hundreds proclaiming the good deeds God has done, I pray that all of this has purpose for furthering God's kingdom.