Your Mercies Are New

"But this I call to mind,

and therefore I have hope:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;

His mercies never come to an end;

they are new every morning;

great is Your faithfulness.

'The Lord is my portion,' says my soul,

'and therefore I will hope in Him.' "

Lamentations 3:21-24

This was perhaps one of the best gifts we, not just Chloe, received for her first birthday. This is the front of the card that my aunt, Chloe's great {definition: awesome} aunt, gave to her with her gift. I knew immediately where it was from.

When I was a child I got to go with my family to my aunt's family's land across from the mighty Mississippi, just over the border from Iowa into Illinois. After a picnic on her family's land, we went to Tyson Creek, which had been owned by her family since 1826. We spent hours that hot, muggy summer day wading up and down the muddy creek looking for fun rocks, arrowheads, and more. It was a fun day and fun opportunity to learn more about my aunt's heritage. 

I opened the card while Alan held Chloe on the morning of her birthday as we opened gifts, and after recognizing the picture, read these words,

Chloe,

This is a place when you get bigger and come to see us in Iowa, 

I will take you here.

This is a creek where we walk and look for pretty rocks

and will picnic too :). 

I love that we--us, our family, Chloe, her doctors, our friends and loved ones, and the many who pray for her--never give up on here. We've fought for her since she was still in the womb. We refuse to look at her and see this child who has "too much" and give up. She's such a little fighter; it amazes us daily. 

I love that in the simplicity of this card, this picture, those few words, that it shows how loved she is and how much we believe in her. 

His mercies are new every morning. His love is fresh every day. 

We wait with baited breath for the phone call about how her cath went. Her team of doctors meets Friday to discuss it. It's a huge unknown...all we can gather so far is that surgery, the Glenn, is not out of the question or taken off the table, meaning so far, there's no reason to believe she wouldn't be a candidate for it. But not all of the team has met yet. And there's concerns, such as if she'll be off her vent by then. And then we all get this curve ball thrown in called a stomach virus that's keeping her from being off her vent tonight. She went eighteen hours yesterday and the day before, praise the Lord! So we pray, we hope for new mercies each day, like getting over this bug and back on track with feeling better. We pray and hope for a good meeting with docs and that they would be ready to present her case as a candidate for this procedure. We could have the mindset of this world and our own selfish kingdoms and sit here stewing, letting anxiety rise, and questioning all of the what-if's, and I do at times, but for the most part, we obey by trusting in His sovereignty. Truth is, we live in a fallen world, and nothing is possible in this world without our Lord Jesus. We trust He'll walk us through this fallen, disease stricken, imperfect ground, for His glory and as a part of His story. 

We trust in this because He's seen us through so much that everyone else said was impossible. I was sorting clothes to send to a dear friend expecting a sweet baby girl, and was sorting through Chloe's clothes. Tears welled up in the corners of my tired eyes as my hands graced the fabrics of NICU clothes, preemie-tiny onesies and pants, sleepers and socks. So tiny. We never thought we'd see the day she'd wear size 12 month clothes, and yet, here we are, happily putting on her new birthday outfits, size 12 months, and silently kicking myself for buying her some nine month onesies that I washed before checking size on her and thus were too small. Too small. Too little for our tiny princess. She's got chunks and cheeks and stink neck hidden in those rolls. Never loved the smell of a stinky, chubby baby so much. 

We have hope that she'll be off this vent in time for surgery.

We trust in our Lord that He's brought us this far, and no matter what, He'll see us through the next part. 

And we smile. And think of the day when we can take sweet Chloe to Iowa, the land of her ancestors, to meet family and see her roots, and to wade in the water and pick up rocks in Tyson Creek.