Fearfully and Wonderfully Made


I am at a weird place in my life.  My faith wildly vacillates.  I suppose it is partly because I am painfully aware that I am not in control of my world.  I know that sounds arrogant, but I went through a long period where my life was easily maintained.  Now crazy things happen all around me on a regular basis.  Some things I am able to manage or reasonably control, others I just have to trust God and hold on tight.

 

As I had mentioned earlier, Jenn and I are attending a Lenten Bible study.  Most of the time, we feel relatively normal.  Other times, quite by accident, somebody says something that just smacks us in the face.  Two weeks ago, the theme of the study was that we are special to God.  The scripture was Psalms 139:14.  The discussion somehow shifted to having kids.  Everyone was going on and on about how “perfect” their kids were.  How they came out perfect.  How childbirth shows us how we are fearfully and wonderfully made.

 

I could visibly see “the switch” go off in Jenn’s head.  I knew from that point on she was “not with us.”  And I was not “with” the group because I was too preoccupied with how Jenn was feeling.  At first I was annoyed that people could be so insensitive.  But the next day I realized that they had not meant offense, they were just sharing their experience.  I was again aware that we are on a different path.

 

Then we had the neurologist appointment.  We got the news of Ethan’s healing (yes, I am now openly calling it a healing) of his Syrinx (spinal tumor).  And there was something else I did not mention this in my previous postings.  Word of warning, my knowledge of anatomy is sub par, so excuse me if I do not get this part exactly right.  From your heart, blood goes up into your head via the carotid artery.  That artery splits in the base of your skull to feed each hemisphere of your brain.  In Ethan’s last MRI, they evaluated his brain in addition to his usual spinal pictures.  They discovered that his carotid artery does not split, but just feeds the one hemisphere.  But somehow, during development, the one hemisphere “grew” its own blood supply to the other hemisphere, a bypass of sorts.

 

How does the brain just automatically create its own network of blood vessels when the main source of blood is cut off?  How is it that Ethan is not profoundly brain damaged?  In fact, he is quite bright.  The answer I have to come back to is that we are in fact “fearfully and wonderfully made.”  Now I realize that that Bible study was a gift.  The other participants thought they “got it.”  But now, I think Jenn and I understand it on an even deeper level.

 

Our struggles with Ethan’s health issues are far from over.  His healing/recovery are far from complete.  In fact we have a surgery coming up in a few weeks.  But every now and then, when I start to feel overwhelmed, I have moments of grace where I know that God has not forgotten us.

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By Ben Posted in Life

4 comments on “Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

  1. You and Jenn inspire my faith. (Imagine going back in time to, say, 1993 and learning that we’d be typing such things. We’d mess ourselves.)

  2. It was good of you to highlight this post. So much to get caught up on…. this was beautiful…. really great. I’m thrilled for you and your family. I will continue to pray for the healing power of God to cover your family.

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