We sang this hymn Sunday morning in church. When I play the piano, I can't help but study and follow the words of the beautiful hymns that are sung so I can pass on the meaning, emphasis and feeling of it through the music to the congregation. I've always loved this hymn, but, wow, did it's message just flow through me in a whole different way (no pun intended...). I had to keep moving through the service, and didn't get another chance to go back to it until now. It all came back. I just have to write out the words today in my blog, it is where I'm at. It is where God is taking me. It describes how I feel exactly. No matter where God takes us on this journey with our precious Cayla Joy, I want this incredible peace to be part of who I am in Christ through it all.
Thank you to Frances R. Havergal for writing these words. She was only a year older than me when she died. I don't remember her story, I'll have to look it up, but such inspiring words could only be written by someone who had been through some deep, rough times herself. Try to read it as if it's the first time you've read it. Enjoy...
Like a river glorious is God's perfect peace,
Over all victorious in its bright increase;
Perfect, yet it floweth fuller every day,
Perfect, yet it groweth deeper all the way.
Stayed upon Jehovah, hearts are fully blest;
Finding as He promised, perfect peace and rest.
Hidden in the hollow of His blessed hand,
Never foe can follow, never traitor stand;
Not a surge of worry, not a shade of care,
Not a blast of hurry touch the spirit there.
Stayed upon Jehovah, hearts are fully blest;
Finding as He promised, perfect peace and rest.
Every joy or trial falleth from above,
Traced upon our dial by the Sun of Love;
We may trust Him fully, all for us to do;
They who trust Him wholly find Him wholly true.
Stayed upon Jehovah, hearts are fully blest;
Finding as He promised, perfect peace and rest.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Beautiful description of raising a child with a disability
This is a beautiful word picture a friend sent me of a mother's outlook on raising a child with a disability. I don't know what our future holds, but if this is what is in our future, I trust God for the ability to handle every situation that will arise.
"I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability
- to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand
it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this...
When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip -
to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The
coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some
handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags
and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in
and says, "Welcome To Holland".
"Holland?!?" you say, "What do you mean "Holland"??? I signed up for Italy! I'm
supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy"
But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and
there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting,
filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different
place.
So you must go and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language.
And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than
Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you
look around…and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills...Holland has
tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy...and they're all
bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your
life, you will say "Yes that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had
planned".
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away...because the loss of
that dream is a very significant loss.
But...if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you
may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things...about
Holland."
© 1987, by Emily Perl Kingsley. All rights reserved.
"I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability
- to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand
it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this...
When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip -
to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The
coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some
handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags
and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in
and says, "Welcome To Holland".
"Holland?!?" you say, "What do you mean "Holland"??? I signed up for Italy! I'm
supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy"
But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and
there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting,
filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different
place.
So you must go and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language.
And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than
Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you
look around…and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills...Holland has
tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy...and they're all
bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your
life, you will say "Yes that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had
planned".
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away...because the loss of
that dream is a very significant loss.
But...if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you
may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things...about
Holland."
© 1987, by Emily Perl Kingsley. All rights reserved.
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