Six years of Rory - joy & grief - to God be the Glory

Today our precious Aurora is six.

That feels wild! 

If I'm honest, today isn't all joy for me. It's the tension of joy and grief existing together.

I felt joy and then sad and then came back to joy again. I’m still learning how to hold both together and yet still come back to settling on the peace within and a trust and faith in Gods goodhard story.

There is immense joy.

• Joy that she's here at all—that her life is a miracle. 

• Joy that her precious presence glorifies God in ways I don't think I ever could. 

• Joy that I am not the same person I was before she entered our lives. In many ways, I think God sent her to save me from myself.

• Joy every time she moves, smiles, smirks

• Joy when I see her siblings love on her, notice her

• Joy when others unexplainably weep when they are in her presence because the Holy Spirits presence within her is so profound

But there is grief too.

• Grief that I (and so many) prayed—and truly believed—that God would heal her body in this life, and he hasn’t.

• Grief that she still lives with daily seizures. Watching your child suffer daily is not a trauma that simply happened in the past that you heal from..its a wound that reopens, it's something we continue to live through every single day.

• Grief that it’s often difficult to communicate with her—to know her needs, her desires, and whether I'm being the mom she needs me to be and making the right decisions.

• Grief that logistics for our family are harder and more complicated than people really get and understand, and the weight and impact of that.

• Grief this isn't how God intended His creation to be. And grief that is difficult to explain to well intended people who just want to fix it and don’t know how to sit with you in it.

• Grief over hard decisions. Grief over feeling misunderstood in navigating the pain. Grief over feeling alone at times (which is a lie..we aren’t alone).

• Grief in feeling guilty for having grief, because she is here against all odds that told us her life wasn’t worth it and she wouldn’t make it and she IS a precious gift.

And yet, there is still joy.

• Joy in the people who love you even when they don't fully understand. Who notice and show up, who come after you whether you are too loud, or too quiet …withdrawn or needy.

• Joy of people who don’t give up on you when you’ve become difficult at times because of the pain and the circumstances unseen and unknown. 

• Joy that I don’t always have to be ___ …that I can be misunderstood, mislabeled, imperfect, and still deeply loved and never alone. That my worth is not defined by anything I do or don’t do - that even when I get it wrong I’m still loved. Loved as I work through the confusion and the untangling of things I thought I knew and understood about God, others, and myself.

• Joy that I don't always have to keep being the strong one. SEASONS! The Father is faithfully doing painful, refining work through all of it.

There is joy (and grief) in facing reality—in doing the hard work of healing, looking at yourself in the mirror and rewiring old patterns, and remembering who God created me to be as He continues making me more whole and sanctifying me. I know I'll never fully arrive this side of eternity, but I want to keep tearing down the lies, the labels, and the judgments while also owning the ways I've misunderstood others, judged wrongly, and caused pain for others. To show up the best I can today. To stop asking why, to stop blaming, and to understand what God wants me to know and do. To seek his wisdom. To know when to be quiet and when to speak. When to serve and give and when to ask for help.

Repenting and forgiving myself and others - remembering there’s so much I can’t see and don’t know and misunderstand. And that bitterness, resentment , misjudgments, and selfishness are more dangerous than we may ever fully acknowledge. That the enemy wants us to join in on his lies against others, and ourselves to keep us isolated from each other, and to keep us from participating with God and seeing ourselves and others through Gods lens of love, compassion and mercy. Where we say ___ (fill in the label and judgement towards yourself or others)__ God says….child, daughter, sister, friend, beloved, chosen, enough, not too much!

I’m learning to keep praying for miracles even when prayers seem unanswered. Trusting that God sees the bigger picture. 

Remembering that He owes us NOTHING, and yet He has already given us everything in Christ. The blood of Jesus is enough.

Our culture constantly tells us that life is all about us. Protect your peace. Prioritize yourself. Practice self-care at all costs.

Self-care isn't wrong, its important. But an over-focus on self can quietly become its own prison.

In navigating pain and circumstances I've allowed myself at times to become stuck in self-pity and victimhood. It's not a beautiful place to live. I'm learning to care for myself without becoming consumed by myself. To take up the space God has given me while remembering I'm only one small piece of His much bigger story. His glory is what matters most.

And somehow, He continues to glorify Himself through Rory's life in ways my words will never fully capture.

I am loved.

She is loved.

You are loved.

The enemy delights in misunderstanding, division, and seperation. But the Father calls us to peace—peace within ourselves and peace with one another.

I used to think understanding and being understood (myself and others) was the most important part..….Now I’m learning acceptance and letting go is so much greater. Not letting go at the sake of not trying…but letting go at the sake of trusting, and yet still showing up. Along with compassion. Mercy. Grace. and of course Love.

How can we love others if we don’t love ourself and truly love God and let ourselves be consumed by his immense mercy and compassion.

C.S. Lewis wrote, "Humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less."

I honestly still don’t know how - to care for myself while not being selfish (there’s not a cookie cutter answer to it) but I’m trying learn..one day at a time. Letting go and letting God is hard. 

So today, I’m trying to choose to step outside of myself and the tension of joyful and hard emotions wrestling each other on this beautiful day…remembering that bridges are suspended by tension. To create bridges that help us cross over on the journey..we too have to learn to hold the tensions. And be ok with not knowing and understanding it all (because guess what..it’s not all about us).

So …if you’ve read this far…Thank you.

Thank you to everyone who has loved Rory, loved our family, prayed for me, walked with me and us through both the beautiful and the heartbreaking.

I truly believe her life was meant to point people to Jesus. I'm still fumbling my way through learning how to share that story well, but I want every part of it to bring Him glory.

So today I simply say:

Thanks be to God for the miracle of Aurora Rose.

For the breaking.
For the refining.
For the healing.
For the beauty that somehow grows alongside suffering.

I'm learning to hold joy and grief together in my tangled mess I’m still trying unwind while still showing up as best I can... To allow both joy and grief to exist together. To keep asking God to change my perspective. Holy spirit come..help me let go, and trust.

In the end, it has always been about His glory.

He is kind. He provides. He is faithful.

He owes us nothing.

And yet He has given us everything.

What a gift it is to be Aurora's mom. What a privilege to play even a small part in what He is doing for His Kingdom.

I have such a long way to go.

But I long for less of me and more of Him.

More joy.
More love.
More compassion.
More forgiveness and less bitterness
More repentance and less self-justification
More mercy and less judgment
More serving.
More kindness.
More unity and less division.
More peace.
More Jesus.

More glory to Him.