Izzy’s Story

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Hospital beds are one-size-fits-all, you know. That’s why you can’t see her in this picture. But she is there, hidden within the white that engulfs her.

I knew something was wrong when I took her to the Emergency Room Sunday.  A sharp pain, I told them. It’s nothing, they said. I knew it still when I took her back eight hours later and insisted they keep looking.  Something is wrong, I told them. She’ll be fine, they said.

I watched the hours go by ever so slowly as she lost more and more of herself to the pain and through the vomit. Twenty – Eight hours later I decided I would wait no more. But this time I didn’t have to say a word as I carried her limp body through the sliding glass doors. Something is wrong,  they said. Yeah, I know.

Her large intestine had itself all twisted up, collapsing at both ends of the twist. Surgery would have to be done quickly, left too long the tissue could die and a portion of the bowel would have to be removed. Left too long? Like 28 hours too long? Like since the last time you said nothing was wrong too long?

When I was a child I thought that anytime you were right about something there came a certain sense of satisfaction.  It’s not true. You can’t be satisfied about being right when the very thing you’re right about is something awful. When you see the remnants of victory produce a fruit that isn’t good. I literally had this moment today where I thought to myself, ‘So if the tumor doesn’t kill you the scar tissue from where it was still can? What the hell?’

We don’t understand so much about life.  We can’t even begin to until we are so far in the middle of living it that we realize we were never meant to anyway.  Not because we are ignorant and God is twisted but because it’s truths are written in a foreign language.  A language that isn’t spoken this side of heaven.

They did the surgery this afternoon and were able to simply untwist the bowel without removing any of it. She’ll have some rough days ahead as she heals but she will be okay. And that’s what she’s doing in this picture. Healing. Engulfed in white.

A few weeks ago I was in the prayer room at church talking to The Lord. I was hashing out the hardest days of the past two years trying to figure it all out. I told him that even though I didn’t understand, I knew He was there. As I closed my eyes I pictured Him looking in on us in one of the hospital rooms. I saw myself curled up next to her in bed and I saw Him peering in through the ceiling. That was sweet, I thought. But then as I looked closer I realized I was wrong.  He was never looking in our room because He never left the room to begin with. He was there, every day, every night, seated in the chair that sat beside her bed. That was beautiful.

So you see, this isn’t just a picture of Izzy, it’s a picture of Izzy’s Story. She is healing, engulfed in white and Jesus is seated faithfully in the chair beside her.

Blessings on you today and LIFE for Izzy!

9 thoughts on “Izzy’s Story

  1. Amen and Amen!! Way to persevere, Molly. You know your children, you keep being the loud voice for them. You are an inspiring Mom.

  2. Indeed so, Jesus is there!!!! I felt honored to be there at the hospital with you when we got the good news. Tears of joy & thankfulness to our God for sweet Izzy’s health. I love you guys so very much & words can’t express how very much you mean to me. Love you friend!!!!

  3. Izzy is a pillar of strengh and a living testimony to our loving God… and you are, too, Molly… you are all in our prayers…. bless you, bless Izzy, bless your husband and son…. may God just perfectly heal Izzy’s bowel… tell her she’s always being prayed for – by someone, somewhere =)

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