The Bravest Person I Know

brave/brāv/

Adjective:

Ready to face and endure danger or pain; showing courage.

Often when we hear this word, we think of soldiers, law enforcement officers, firemen. Maybe we think of Christians who are persecuted, or Rosa Parks, for taking a stand for equal rights.  In this modern day, few of us probably get to meet someone that is really, truly brave.  I have met such a someone.  She isn't a fearless soldier, although she is fearless.  She is not a courageous fireman or law enforcement officer, although she is truly courageous.  She is not a persecuted Christian in a foreign land, although she is certainly persecuted.  She is a not quite 17 year old, just a couple inches over 4 feet tall, who has had to endure much more in her short life than nearly all of us will in all of our years. 

She is my niece, Sarah. 

Sarah has Eczema.  Now, most of you are thinking "Well, that's just dry skin.  Hardly anything to be brave over."  No, for Sarah, it isn't just dry skin.  It is dry skin over every inch of her body. Skin so dry it flakes constantly, cracks open, and leaves sores and scars.  Her skin can be so dry that the backs of her knees crack open to the point she cannot walk.  Even the creases around her eyes can and do crack open.  Look down at your body.  Imagine that every crease in your skin is now an open wound.  Think about a mosquito bite or the worst case of poison ivy you have ever had.  Multiply it to COVERING YOUR ENTIRE BODY.  That is what Sarah endures EVERY DAY.  Now, imagine you are a 16 year old high school girl, who has to go to school every day with flakey skin, a bottle of moisturizer to be applied every hour in order to make it through, and a stature that is extra small due to the many medications she has had to take over the years.  Hmmm...think about YOUR high school days.  Do you think that your peers would be loving and accepting of you?  Do you think they would see your sweet smile or be too distracted by your mottled appearance?

THAT is why Sarah is the bravest person I know.  Brave because she gets up every morning, even when she hasn't been able to sleep because the itching is so bad, spends MUCH MUCH longer trying to look "normal" just so people will not stare and she goes to school.  Brave because her whole life she has had to defend her illness.  "No it isn't chicken pox , or scabies, or anything else that is contagious.  It's just Eczema, and I have it really really bad."  Brave because her whole life people have stared at her, wondering what is wrong with her but not really being compassionate. Brave because last week at lunch, her "regular" crowd wasn't there, and when she went to sit at another table, all of the kids got up and left.  And most of all, she is brave because tomorrow night, Sarah will go to her Junior prom, BY HERSELF.  A date would have been too much to ask for, even though Sarah is such a delightful companion.  Smiling, giggly, silly, fun.  But Sarah couldn't even find one of her friends to go with her.  So tomorrow, Sarah will have a facial to hopefully smooth out some of the uneven tones.  She will have a hairdresser put her long, thick hair in a beautiful updo.  She will get dressed in her beautiful pint sized dress, and go to the prom, alone. 

I wish I could change it for her.  I wish that someone would have compassion on her and accompany her to the prom.  I wish....SO MUCH for Sarah because the world has been so cruel to her.  Wishes don't do anything, but I wanted to share why...

Sarah Lindsay Houston is, by far, THE BRAVEST PERSON I KNOW.  And I could not be prouder to be her aunt.

In just a minute...

You can heat up dinner in the microwave.
You can sweep the floor or scrub a toilet.
You can change over a load of laundry from the washer to the dryer.
You can check out what your friends are doing via Facebook or Twitter.
You can send an email to a friend.
You can give a hug, a kiss or a smile.

And in just a minute, your life can be changed forever. A week ago today, my little boy almost drowned. Some mornings this week I woke up thinking what if he really died and I've just lived this week in a dream? EVERY day I imagine him in the water. And every day I'm thankful that we don't have to live through the dying. God gave Wyatt back to us. 6 swimmers within 15 feet, and no one saw him fall in. How does that happen? By not being vigilant in our stewardship of our children. Not that accidents don't happen. Obviously, they do. If we are being good stewards of the children that God has given us, however, there will be lots less opportunities for sorrow.

In a minute...a 3 year old can save his brother's life.
In a minute...a dad can instinctively know how to get the water dispelled.
In a minute...waiting arms beg to hold their baby brother to be reassured that all is well.
In a minute...we can praise God for miracles.
In a minute...
God reminded me "Never think for a MINUTE that I am not watching over you. Never think for a MINUTE that you are alone. I am here. I was with your little boy. He rested in my arms through it all. It was MY choice to give him back to you. Please cherish him until the time that I choose to take him to be with me again."

It probably took about a minute to read this. I pray that it was not a minute wasted, but rather one to remind you to love your little ones, big ones, and all those around you, and remember that it is God who has numbered our days. Let's not waste any of them.

Psalm 90:12 So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.

Mondays...

Why is it that everything feels so out of control on a Monday? It would seem half the day slips by without accomplishment and the only ones out of bed with energy are those under 5. Wouldn't it be nice to begin the week with a fresh burst and determination to conquer the day? Apparently I need to work on this :)

Bradlee is studying the US Constitution and reviewing whether or not some fictitious actions are constitutional or not. How thankful I am that our country's foundation is a solid one. Even though there is much corruption in politics, as I read over our constitution, I am amazed at the foresight of our founding fathers. Truly guided by the hand of God.

Wyatt speaks so little. I would worry except that his brother Emmett spoke very little before he was 2 also. Then he began conversing in complete sentences. His vocabulary consisted of so few words. Then we were out to eat with friends when their son got up to go to the restroom. Emmett clearly (and loudly I might add) spoke "Hey Peter, where are you going?" like he'd known all the words all along. From then on it was "Emmett, can you please be quiet?" His unusual word is "kringle." We don't know what it is, what it means, or where it came from, but Emmett uses it for everything when he's talking. "I'd like some kringle milk." "I was kringle coming in from outside." "Is that your kringle watch?" Of course, if you ask him to repeat whatever he said, he removes the kringle. We figure it is his every adjective, every verb, every noun, when he doesn't know what to say. Either way, it's pretty funny.

The kids are busy making their lists of what to buy others for Christmas. They've earned a bit of job money this year and we've put them in charge of their own budgets. They're pretty hyped about it. Christmas will be here before we know it!

It's definitely Monday, and I definitely need to go accomplish SOMETHING before even more of my day slips away unaccounted for.

October 8, 2008

I have no idea how to truly start blogging, but I'm going to do it anyway. This may be my first and LAST, but at least I can say I did it. Thankfully, I have 4 children who are computer literate, so they can take over the duties from time to time.

Today is a fairly quiet Wednesday. I just returned from a 2 day trip to Chicago; Ben promptly flew from Chicago to California, where he will remain until the 16th of this month. So we continue on with our "normalcy;" whatever that looks like. Actually today is fairly unusual as we had no piano, no baseball, no ballet, and no horseback riding. Just school. And laundry. Always the laundry.

Truett burned his hand really badly while I was on my trip. I'm sure there's some new safety policy in effect at the office now regarding coffee pots and children. He was just getting hot chocolate, and somehow missed. What can I say? He's my kid! (And the grandson of Nana, who got a severe burn on her leg when we were small...from a TOASTER. Go figure that one out.) He's doing fine, didn't cry (I would have) and is trying to figure out how he's going to play baseball tomorrow without further irritating his hand.

I guess that is all for today. I need to pace myself for this anyway, as life around here isn't very interesting.