On
June 5th 2001 we were blessed with a miracle, her name is Emma
Grace. Emma was diagnosed with a rare form of cardiomyopathy referred
to as Histiocytoid Cardiomyopathy. This required our angel to
undergo a heart transplant at the fragile age of 4 months old.
Looking
back on the past two years of my life as a wife, mother, and friend,
I have come to realize that life as I knew it will never be the
same. I wanted to share some of the things that have been heavy
on my heart over the last few weeks.
When
I first found out about Emma's cardiomyopathy, I was devastated.
This was a perfectly normal pregnancy up until that day, April
4, 2001. There were no major events, there were no signs or concerns.
I went to the doctor that day in a rush, already having made plans
for what the rest of my day would entail. I remember the exact
moment it seemed that my world had fallen apart.
I
think back on the events that unfolded, I think about the pain
that completely took over my entire body, and the anger that I
had no idea what to do with. I remember driving the 45 minutes
to the children's hospital to see the fetal cardiologist. I remember
looking out the window and crying as I bargained with God on how
"we could make this work." I remember, out of no where,
saying "I can handle anything, but I can't handle a heart
transplant. . ." Little did I know that that was exactly
what the Lord had planned for our family.
Sitting
in the Fetal Cardiologist's office, the only words I heard were
"death," "no chance of survival," "there's
nothing you can do," "she'll stop kicking in about two
weeks." I left there crying out loud, "Lord, just take
her now, make her stop kicking and take her now, because I cannot
do this."
I
became a Christian when I was ten years old in Amarillo, Texas.
I have always gone to church, my father was a pastor, my husband
was a pastor. . . but it wasn't until this point in my life that
I truly understood what a "relationship with Christ"
meant.
There
are many phases of the grieving process, and I found myself going
thru them at the speed of light. When we came home for the Children's
Hospital that day, I shut down. If I wasn't completely silent
holding my pregnant stomach, I was crying uncontrollably. I didn't
eat, I didn't sleep, I didn't function.
I,
silently, questioned everything about my faith. I asked those
questions that are all too familiar with those of us that have
faced a crisis. "Why is this happening to my family."
"What did I do to deserve this." "Why is God putting
us thru this." My faith never waivered, but my relationship
with Christ took on a completely new meaning. It was real, raw,
and completely open. I shared my feelings in ways I had never
thought possible. I experienced emotions I never knew were in
existence. I became "Real" with my Father. I shared
my anger, I shared my disappointment, and I shared my desperation.
The bottom line was that I finally realized that this "thing"
we call Christianity isn't about what church you go to or what
ministry you lead. A relationship with Christ is just that, a
relationship. And any relationship can only thrive if it is bathed
in honesty and openness. I have never been so open as I was during
those most desperate times. I realized that, in fact, when I said
"I can't," I was completely right. . . . I can't. .
. but God can. . .
So
much happened so fast in those first four months. So many goodbyes
were said to my little girl, so many things were done to her little
body, so many emotions filled the hearts of everyone around us.
We prayed for a miracle, we prayed for complete healing. . . but
the Lord had other plans for us. I learned that "claiming
healing" and understanding the complete and awesome power
of Christ were two different things. I am still, to this day,
learning that lesson. You see, I believe that the Lord is able
to heal Emma, but I also realize that it may not be in His plan
to do so. That was a hard realization for me to come to. Many
events got me to that point. Many emotions, many tears.
At
one point I had to break down, I had to show I wasn't strong all
the time, that I wasn't this tower of unfailing faith. I was human,
I was hurting, I was angry, and I needed to be able to share that.
I think that one of the things that is so detrimental when someone
is facing a catastrophic event is for those around them to tell
them "how strong they are." It is okay to not be strong.
. . it is okay to break down, It is okay to be "real."
That is when healing can take place. It does not mean that your
faith is any weaker. It does not mean that your prayers are any
less powerful. It means that you can be completely open and honest
about your devastation.
I
remember when this point came for me. I remember standing in my
living room and "having it out" with God. I remember
telling him that I needed something to blame, I needed a place
to put all this anger, I needed a place that I could come and
break down. He showed me that place. . . it was in Him. I could
be all these things in Him. He, after all, was my Father. He knew
my heart even before I spoke the words. Why in the world would
I think that just because I didn't share my anger with Him, that
he didn't already know?
During
the past two years, a lot has happened with my family. A lot of
changes have come about. A lot of "compromises" have
been made. The transition periods are never easy, but I have come
to depend upon this "openness" with my Father to get
me thru.
I
believe the Lord can heal Emma, I pray fervently every day that
He will, but I also realize that this may not be His will. I realize
that despite my heart's desire, death for all of us is inevitable.
What I have learned thru this, though, is that time is precious.
The lives that we (those of us who have faced these situations)
touch along the way is where the "ministry" is. My daughter's
legacy will live on long after this disease takes her life. Her
testimony of God's Grace, even if he does not spare her life,
is MIGHTY. He formed her, He breathed life into her, and He will
carry her thru this. He will carry us all thru this.
I
greatly appreciate your prayers for my daughter and my family.
Please continue to keep them in your prayers. One thing that I
do ask, though, is that when you are praying for healing for my
daughter, you pray also for His perfect will to be completed in
her, whatever that may be.
Pray
for grace and understanding for her father and I. Pray that we
will understand the path that He is leading us down. Pray that
our hearts will continue to be "open" and that we will
not feel the pressure to constantly be strong. . . for in our
weakness, HE is strong.
Please
pray that we will be open vessels. That our lives, and the life
of our precious Emma Grace, will minister to every person we come
into contact with.
I
am going to leave you with a verse that a dear friend of mine
has placed upon my heart for comfort. "Having Done All, STAND."
Knowing that we have done all that we can for our daughter, we
are commanded to "Stand". . . stand in the promises
of the Lord.
Thank
You for all your support.
You are a blessing to me.
Heather
(Emma's Mom)
"
Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But
he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power
is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all
the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may
rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses,
in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For
when I am weak, then I am strong."
2 Corinthians 12:7-10
Now
read what happened when Heather
got cancer
If
you want to meet Emma on 2hearts or go to her Web page click
here.
