Thy Will Be Done

Life is hard. 

I don't have it all together.

I don't have all the answers.

I don't understand why things are or become the way they are.

I don't understand why things don't go the way I want them to.

I don't like when those I love are hurting.

I don't like when problems keep arising for my sweet Ridge.

I don't like when my precious Rylann can't seem to stay well.

I don't like when Rook and Reese are having bad days and I don't know how best to parent to them or their needs and it turns into a mess for everyone and we all feel a little frustration, guilt, love and stress.

But, that is life.

And life is hard.

2017 was a crazy year for the Austin household. Between preparing for baby number 4, to having baby number 4, to learning about baby number 4's health issues, to spending a lot of time with baby number 4 in the hospital, it just wasn't what we expected, prepared for, prayed for, and hoped for. But it was what we lived through, loved through, survived through, and laughed through.

2018 is here and we have looked forward to the positive changes. But sometimes those come with highs and lows. While 2017 was crazy, we planned on 2018 being smoother, less hospitals and doctors, more family time, better health, you get the point. And while 2018 isn't going terrible, it still isn't starting as smoothly as I hoped. I laugh at the times I have made plans this year and those plans have had to change. I don't know when I will learn. We have spent many days at Millard Henry Clinic between Rylann and Ridge with plenty of ear infections. We have spent several days with Ridge at Arkansas Children's Hospital for mishaps (you know, tubes coming out) and check-ups (which is more than a handful). But again, we press through. We've been praying for other things to come our way to make our family dynamic a little easier as well, but those things have yet to come to fruition. It has been a long journey. There have been tears, frustration, heartache, bitterness, love, perseverance, prayers, desperation, and strength. Darran and I both have so many questions about our future and what will it look like for us. In the midst of trying to "figure that out" and raising four kids, it has been exhausting.

When Jesus was preparing for his death, something that is quite a bit more troublesome to prepare for and pray for than my "better 2018" problems, he struggled. While in Gethsemane he was grieving, what the Bible says was "to the point of death." (Matt 26:38.) Jesus knew he was about to take on something, a plan, the perfect design by God to bring unity and connection and a pathway between Him and His people. This was the one and only way to make this happen. Jesus knew that. He knew that he came from Heaven to fulfill the Father's will, not his own (John 6:38). In his prayer, he prays while falling face down. Face down in what was probably dry soil turned wet from tears surrounding the olive trees in the garden, pleading, "My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me; yet not as I will, but as You will" (v. 29.) Father, please take this suffering from me. But, let it not be what I want, but what you want for me. This prayer is one that would be a gut wrencher. This prayer would require you to swallow all of your pride, get on your knees and say, Lord, help me in my suffering, but if it is what you want to happen, then it will happen.

Many times, I pray and pray and pray for things to happen. For Ridge to get better. For Darran to get to be with us every night. For our lives to turn semi-normal. I get frustrated and bitter and tired and negative when things do not go as I wish, as I pray, as I want. It is so easy to take that route. What isn't so easy is falling face down and saying, "Okay Lord, please take some of these burdens from me.  Please heal my sweet precious son to eat, to develop, to be healthy in every way. Please bring us an opportunity for Darran to be home with us and for us to have a normal functioning life. Please make things just a little easier. BUT...if that isn't what you have planned for us, if that isn't what you want for us right now, then THY WILL BE DONE." God didn't say life would be easy. There will be suffering. There will be pains. There will be struggles. It is how we react to those struggles that matters. How will I pursue God in my pain? How will I reflect Christ in this period of suffering? How can I better sing God's praises through the storm I am in? As Jesus understood, I too must better understand we are sent here with a purpose. I was not sent here for my own pleasure and will. I was sent here to do the will that God has planned. As a believer in Christ, through my struggles and frustrations, I must rejoice that I am here and can use this for His purpose, for His good, for His kingdom.

Thy Will by Hilary Scott has become one song that has played over and over in my head many times.
Watch: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dp4WC_YZAuw
Here are the lyrics:

I’m so confused / I know I heard you loud and clear / So, I followed through / Somehow I ended up here I don’t wanna think / I may never understand / That my broken heart / Is a part of your planWhen I try to pray / All I’ve got is hurt / And these four words

Thy will be done 
Thy will be done 
Thy will be done 

I know you’re good / But this don’t feel good right now / And I know you think / Of things I could never think about
It’s hard to count it all joy / Distracted by the noise / Just trying to make sense / Of all your promises
Sometimes I gotta stop /Remember that you’re God / And I am not / So

Thy will be done
Thy will be done 
Thy will be done 
Like a child on my knees all that comes to me is
Thy will be done
Thy will be done 
Thy will

I know you see me / I know you hear me, Lord / Your plans are for me / Goodness you have in store
I know you hear me / I know you see me, Lord / Your plans are for me / Good news you have in store

So, thy will be done
Thy will be done 
Thy will be done 
Like a child on my knees all that comes to me is
Thy will be done
Thy will be done 
Thy will be done
I know you see me
I know you hear me, Lord

With all the chaos and noise and trials that come our way, through the struggles and pain, through the triumphs and joy, Lord, Thy Will Be Done. 

Deep Waters

"Your grace abounds in deepest waters / Your sovereign hand /  Will be my guide / Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me / You've never failed and You won't start now

So I will call upon Your name / And keep my eyes above the waves / When oceans rise, my soul will rest in Your embrace / For I am Yours and You are mine

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders / Let me walk upon the waters / Wherever You would call me / Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander / And my faith will be made stronger / In the presence of my Savior"

This song is not easy. Read the lyrics again. Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders. As a human being, it is hard to imagine, hard to concept, anything without borders. We think about the number infinity, I still feel there will come an end. I think about creation. I feel like past the universe and galaxies out there is a massive square box we all fit in. When I think about eternity, it is still hard to grasp that is forever, because humanly forever, there is an end. So when the words state "Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders," that is a big plea with Jesus. To have full trust in Jesus that you will walk on the waters where you otherwise would sink. To ask him to take you deeper, that is bold. If you ask these questions, you better be ready to tread those waters. 

Day 2 - May 16, 2017: Surgery day. My precious, tiny, 6 pound baby. "We are going to cut here." "Are you okay with a spinal block?" "Can he have a blood if we need to give him some?" "He may be in a lot of pain when he wakes up, which may take a day or two." These were things I was asked and told way too early in the morning on just your second day of life. Some things I knew, some questions I didn't know how to answer. "Your grace abounds in deepest waters." I have never been in those deep waters in a way I was in those first few days. "Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me." I have never been in so much fear as I was sitting at Arkansas Children's Hospital. We wheeled you down from the NICU. We met with the surgeons and anesthesiologists. We answered questions and discussed issues. We answered more questions and discussed more issues. My head was spinning. I sat there beside your bed with Darran, mom and Micah. I just had to hold back tears. I was scared. This was waters unknown for me as a mom. I didn't think I would ever have to answer questions I had to answer in reference to my baby. "So I will call upon Your name." I did. All I could do was pray to myself over and over. Even when people were talking to me, I could remember I was praying inside. I don't know that I remember much of the conversations that day. It is a blur. After they took you back, we made our way up to the crowded waiting area. We waited. And waited. And waited some more. Surgery was almost four hours. "When oceans rise, my soul will rest in Your embrace / For I am Yours and You are mine." The ocean was rising. I was anxious. I was standing up. I was sitting down. Up. Down. The phone was for me, you were doing fine. Down, up, down, phone, up. It was some of the longest hours of my life. Finally! You were out of surgery, doing well, and they would have you in recovery and back upstairs in the NICU shortly. I could breathe. Jesus kept me in his embrace. I would have never made it through that day without a whole lot of Jesus, Darran, and my family (Mom, Dad, Micah, Callie, Amy Jo and Darrak). When we got back to your pod, I didn't want to leave you. I watched you, I watched as your ventilator machine monitored and helped you breathe, I watched your blood pressure, your heart rate, your temperature. I wanted to make sure, even though you were peacefully sleeping, that Mommy was by your side. I wasn't going to leave you. We made it through together. Your tiny body, now with a scar and a small hole just below it, still beautiful as ever. It was a long day. But we made it! "You've never failed and You won't start now."

This coming Monday you will be 8 months old. Since your first surgery on day 2, you've had 5 other procedures. The fear I felt on day 2 in the surgery waiting room is filled with familiarity now. Not because I don't fear for my child, but because through this deep ocean we've been swimming in, as the oceans rise and fall on the journey, there has been an ever present constant: Your sovereign hand has guided us through. Though it may not be easy, or pretty, or clear, one thing remains: I am Yours, You are mine. 

From Day 1 to today, Day 240, you are what I needed. You are what our family needed. Though the days be tough, and the challenges still come, I have and will always love you, fight for you, and support you. It is amazing the things God knows we need before we ever know they exist. God knew we would have our sweet Ridge Grisham well before we did. He knew I needed him. Ridge has a purpose. And through his little life, Jesus shines, and for that, I am blessed.

Welcome To Our Journey

Hey everyone!

I finally caved and decided I would start an actual blog. I can be a "wordy" person, so I figured putting it here will not only eliminate clogging up Facebook and Instagram news feeds, but also allow me to express freely and fully to have as a keepsake looking back on. It is mostly my words, written to Ridge, as well as me expressing the journey. I will probably bounce back and forth between the two monologues. I want to slowly get it in writing so I do not lose or forget this journey we have been on. For me, for Ridge, for our family. Not so we can dwell on it, but so we can look back and praise our Father for bringing us to and through this journey with Ridge down this ridge. He was, is and always will be a Good, Good Father.

Sometimes I question who it is I am and who it is I want to become through all of this journey with Ridge. This has not been an easy walk through the rose garden. It has not been pleasurable or fun. What it has been is: exhausting, complicating, frustrating, humbling, educational, trying, loving, hopeful, and beautiful. As many of you know, Ridge was our surprise. I found out I was pregnant on October 3, 2016, the day our baby girl, Rylann, was 3 months old. While I was shocked and confused, I was deep down so excited to have a fourth child. However, I just could not believe we would be having two children within one year. Our sweet Ridge made his arrival on May 15th, 2017, and this has been our journey since. It has been full of challenges, growth, highs and lows. I have had to learn to let others help, that you can't always plan out every detail of life, and that every day is a new day with a new story. So, here is ours.

Day 1:

Monday, May 15, 2017: The day you were born. You looked so much like your brother; you were beautiful. The moment I first held you, I knew there was a purpose for your life. Unfortunately, I also knew something wasn't right. You sounded extremely congested, even with multiple suctions. Your beautiful, tiny body would turn purple and blue to the point I was terrified. We were blessed to have a wonderful Nursery Nurse that knew instantly what your problem was. After talking with the Pediatrician on call, they came and told us you were born with Esophageal Atresia (EA) and would need to be sent to Arkansas Children's to the NICU, and would be looking at surgery in the upcoming days. All I could think was, "Wait, what? This can't be happening. The plan was, he would be born, healthy, and we would go home to our other three babies and life would be normal." Mom said my face turned white as a ghost and I looked like I was in a fog. I was confused. I was heartbroken. I was scared. Not for me, but for you. I had never heard of this esophageal atresia mess they mentioned. At that point, I didn't understand what I did wrong during this pregnancy to make something like this happen to you. I kept asking myself, "Did I do something different this time?" They came and placed you in the isolation incubator and took you to ACH when you were just a few hours old. You were hooked up to tubes everywhere. My amazing OB/GYN through all four pregnancies came by to talk to me after she was given the news. Thankfully, she let me shower and go. I could not fathom being there while you were at ACH and I had no idea what was going on. I think she also knew I would be driving her crazy or climbing the walls until I was out of there. Darran and Dad followed you to ACH. Mom stuck around and we were just behind. It was a strange feeling to walk out of the hospital, climb into Mom's vehicle, and not have my baby with me. She got me to ACH just 5 hours after delivering. When I walked into the NICU and saw you, I didn't know what to think or how to feel. I just was still in shock. So many tests. So many tubes. So many conversations. All I knew was they mentioned you had the EA and Tracheoesophageal Fistula (TEF) (um, what?) and that a major 3-4 hour surgery would be required to repair it. We talked to the surgeons. We talked to the anesthesiologists. Surgery was set for the next morning, when you were a mere 24 hours old. I didn't leave your side much that day. I was wanting to hold you so bad. However, I had to settle with holding your hand, so I did. By the end of the day, I was emotionally, mentally, physically exhausted. I went to the hotel to sleep, but I watched you on the camera instead. My baby boy was going to have surgery the next day. How could I sleep? I watched. And I watched some more.

I said from the very moment I found out we were having you, God would do mighty things with and through you. Day 1, and it was just the beginning.

Stay tuned...