The Run

Friday was hard. 

I wasn't sure if I would post about it as I wasn't sure how to put into words the mixture of emotions, the disappointment, the heartbreak, the gratitude and the immense love for a child who has to fight for every single step.

Friday was the annual Reindeer Run at school and just like every year, Lucy was excited. 

With the big "sport" wheels in place, her walker was ready to go. For a little while, it's almost like she forgets and for a little while she can dream.

She was ready. 

Lining up with her walker, she was just one of the girls, waiting to run... run. So full of anticipation, she waited for the whistle and almost as soon as the whistle blew and the race started, my Lucy, my brave, strong, courageous Lucy, fell. And so did my heart.

A sweet friend helped me to bring Lucy to her feet again. I watched as she physically and mentally, pulled it together and continued on, flanked now by a few sweet young boys who were going to watch over my girl.

It wasn't long before she fell again, the one thing the walker and her sport wheels were supposed to prevent. I offered to push the back of the walker for her but she was done. Done with the walker that is. Baby girl gritted her teeth and decided to go on without the walker. 

Fighting back tears, she muscled on, falling several more times but everytime, getting back up, determined to make those legs go.

She didn't make the 5 laps but she made 2 and when she fell into my arms, I was the one fighting back tears. She needed me to be happy and excited and proud and I was but I was also heartbroken and angry and empty and defeated... 

but as she looked up at me, expectantly and obviously disappointed, I mustered up every ounce of enthusiasm and excitement and pride I could and covered her in kisses and congratulations. Trying to steady my voice, I told her over and over, just how proud I was of her...

waiting until the solitude of my car to break down and give in to the brokenness that permeates her life.

This is hard y'all but the brokenness that we have stepped into has revealed to us the brokenness that we were steeped in... 

the kind of brokenness that lulls you into believing what the world tells you, the kind of brokenness that feels good, the kind of brokenness that surrounds comfort and security and self love, the kind of brokenness that lies to you and reassures your sense of "worthiness". 

This is the kind of brokenness that leaves you empty and numb. Allowing our children's kind of brokenness into our lives has broken our hearts for what breaks His and opened our eyes to a world far greater than the one that begins and ends with a white picket fence.

Lucy, in your brokenness, you are so beautiful.