Our Needs Are Met…Ahead of Time Part 3

Emotions are running higher than usual for me tonight.  I remember where we were two months ago at this time, and it’s hard not to re-live the experience of the diagnosis.  Maybe writing the remaining ways in which the Lord provided for our needs in this third blog will help.

A few weeks prior to knowing George had Type 1 Diabetes, we thought Shane might have an open door to a new job in Portland Oregon.  I lived there for seven years and all my family and several close friends would be nearby.  This job would pay more.  It was difficult, but all I can say is the Lord made it clear that we were not to pursue a big move like that.  And then came the diagnosis.  If Shane had a new job we would have had a season of no medical insurance.  The insurance  from Shane’s employment at Lowe’s has been exceptional.  And to top it off, his manager has asked us to give copies of our medical bills to him so he can present them to higher management and possibly offset the costs for us.

Along with that, we have been humbled and blessed to receive checks in the mail for the exact amount we need for monthly prescriptions.  Two months in a row.

While on the topic of prescriptions, I need to mention a sweet gift from the Lord to me specifically.  I had a miscarriage a few years ago, and during that time I went to a particular Walgreens for my prescriptions.  I hate that Walgreens.  I rarely go inside because of the memories it invokes.  But it is cheap, and that is where I had the doctor send Georgie’s prescriptions.  Weeks prior to all this, one of my dearest friends decided to come for a visit.  He is more than a friend, he is our family.  He just happened to be here when I had to go to the hated Walgreens.  He came inside with me.  He stood by me as I paid for the numerous bags of needles, insulin, blood sugar test strips, syringes, vials, glucagon and I don’t remember what else.  He cried with me.  And after we cried, he made me laugh.  And after that I’m pretty sure we cried again.  I could NEVER have done that by myself.  And I could never have planned his visit to fall on the exact day I had to fill those prescriptions.  Only my loving Father could provide that for me.

I have just a few more that I will quickly summarize, then I want to end with a story that illustrates perfectly how the Lord provided before we even knew we needed it.

  • Georgie is an extreme extrovert.  God created him this way.  Neither Shane nor I are this way.  He loves people and loves communication.  This is a gift God has given him to help him as he learns to manage this disease on his own in the next few years.
  • I didn’t know it, but I already have two friends who have sons with T1D.  When they heard about Georgie, they contacted me and have been a source of encouragement, help and hope.  I also have friends with T1D who have been helping me more than I can express.
  • About four years ago, a godly couple prayed over Shane and me.  It was encouraging and prophetic.  But one part never made sense to me until a few days ago.  Hope was rummaging through a drawer and she brought me the notes I took from this prayer time.  It said, “As God’s design for George becomes clearer, it will make sense why Melodi was chosen to be his mother.”  I was chosen to be Georgie’s mother.  And God wants me to know it.

Now I can write my favorite portion of my provision-ahead-of-time story.

After our time in the hospital we were discharged and sent directly to the Barbara Davis Center for Childhood Diabetes (BDC).  One of the top research facilities for T1D in the world.  It was late afternoon and we were still in shock, exhausted in every sense of the word, fragile mentally and emotionally.  But we had to meet with a doctor and nurse and learn several things before heading home for the night.  Only to return in the morning.  For eight hours of training.

George was completely traumatized at this point.  The hourly finger pokes, an IV in each arm, countless blood draws, hunger, thirst, fatigue….he was a mess.  And hysterical.  I don’t like to talk much about his screaming.  Or his weeping.  Or the desperate look of confusion that would come over his face.  Or how he would cry out, “Mommy!  Mommy!”  He hadn’t called me that in many months.  By the time we arrived at the BDC, anyone in scrubs sent him into hysterical screaming and he would hide in my arms.

And then we met her.

I was dazed when we were ushered into the lab technicians room.  I remember seeing a small woman in scrubs trying to talk George into getting onto a scale so she could weigh him.  And he went absolutely nuts.  He would not let her touch him, and wouldn’t let us near him either.  I started to fall apart but then I heard something.  I heard the Name that has been my refuge for as long as I can remember.  I lifted my eyes and saw this woman with her arms raised to Heaven praying, “Oh Jesus.  Oh Jesus.  Help my Little Brother.  Be with Mama.  Be with Daddy. Let them know that it will be alright.  Everything will be alright.”

Somehow I found myself in a chair with tears streaming down my cheeks as I watched her envelop my son in her arms.  She told him that she would never hurt him.  That Jesus loved him.  That she was here to help him.  And Georgie instantly calmed down.  For the first time in nearly 24 hours he wasn’t screaming.  Because he knows that Name too.  And felt His presence as immediately as Shane and I did.  Amazingly he allowed her to weigh him, measure him and give him a finger poke.  No crying.  No screaming.  Just peace.

She turned to me and said, “Everything will be alright, Mama.”  And I wept.

She has worked at the BDC for several years.  Diabetic herself, she has learned to comfort others through her own affliction.

And the best part??  The absolutely incredible miracle part??  Her father’s name was George.  When he passed away, she had his name tattooed on her ankle.  Little Georgie always wants to see it.  Once he wanted to ask her if she was a real angel.  (Because I refer to her as our sister-angel.  I honestly don’t even remember her real name yet.  I just call her Angel.)  So he asked her if she was a real angel.  She stared at him with tears in her eyes and said, “No, Little Brother.  I’m not a real angel.”

But you never know.  You just never know.

All I know is that this lovely woman was put in place years ago by a loving God who knew I (and countless others) would need her.  Desperately, desperately need to encounter the Prince of Peace who so abundantly flows through her precious care.

Thank you for reading.  It has been a healing experience for me to write these past three blogs.  Looking back and acknowledging the work of God in this way is heart-changing.  Thank you for allowing me to do it with you.


The All Encompassing Word

“My Father, I think You are asking too much of me.”

It wasn’t until this morning that I allowed myself to verbalize it.  A little over two weeks ago our 5 1/2 year old son George was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. 

In the next few blogs I’m going to write a lot about his diagnosis, what it means for our George, our family and friends, how it feels, what we’re having to learn, how life has drastically changed.  But today I’m going to write about what hasn’t changed.  Because if I don’t force myself to remember the foundation my life is built upon, I will absolutely be blown away in the midst of this storm.

This morning I got my son ready for pre-school, just like I have since the beginning of the school year.  Except this time, I prepared a box for his teacher.  In the box is insulin, needles, glucose tablets, glucagon (in the event his blood sugar goes so low that he is unconscious), alcohol swipes, his blood glucose meter and test strips and lancet, snacks labeled with exact amounts of carbs, juice, orders from the doctor and emergency numbers to the Barbara Davis Center for Childhood Diabetes. I talked with him about the nurse who would be testing his blood sugar level, reminded him not to share snacks, and made sure he could verbalize when he gets dizzy or tired.  As I put his “I have Type 1 Diabetes” medical alert bracelet on, I found that I couldn’t breathe….I finally broke down and prayed, “Lord, this is too much.  You’re asking too much of me.”

Even now as I sit here writing, his teacher and nurse are texting me blood glucose numbers and letting me know how much of his snack he ate. 

So much has changed.  Some days I feel that everything has changed.  But some things remain the same.

  • God’s character doesn’t change.  He is good.  He is love.  He is faithful.  He is powerful.  He is Provider.  He is Healer.  He is Comforter.  He IS.
  • God’s Word doesn’t change.  The morning following his diagnosis we were in the hospital still.  I awoke to an old song running through my spirit, “The Lord is my keeper, the Lord is the shade on my right hand.”  It was from Ps. 121.  One of God’s many promises to me that never, ever changes.
  • God’s requirement of me doesn’t change. 

Although today, I feel that He is asking way too much of me.  I honestly cannot do this.  Giving my beloved little boy 5 shots a day, even more finger pokes, explaining why certain foods are no longer healthy, calculating insulin for carbs and blood sugar correction, watching closely for any symptoms of highs or lows, buying my little girl a toy medical kit because all she wants to do is give shots to her baby dolls…and the absolute hardest for me:  watching George grow up too fast, having to face life way too early, and seeing changes in his little personality as he processes through what Type 1 Diabetes means for him right now.  Its TOO MUCH.  Way too much.

But then He speaks to my heart as only He can.  And He simply says one thing.  “Come.”  That all encompassing word of hope, life, peace and joy.  “Come to Me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest…I am gentle and lowly in heart and you will find rest for your souls.  For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light.”  Matt. 11:28-30

The only thing He is requiring of me right now is to come to Him.  Because it is too much.  I cannot bear it.  I cannot carry this.  So I must let Him carry me.