Better each day

There are certain things that take me right back to Utah and my time there with Victor.  Like frozen yogurt (you, too, Katrina?).  Another adoptive family posted a blog about a family trip to Bridal Veil Falls and the Provo Canyon Parkway.  I looked at the pictures and I was right back there.  Songs have been especially powerful.

This morning I heard Worn by Tenth Avenue North and my mind was immediately transported, the tears immediately flowed.  This song was on the radio almost everyday as I drove back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.  Many days I was worn and oh how I prayed for redemption to win. "But I'm too weak," was all too familiar as was "I know that you can give me rest."  And then the very next song answered the question written all throughout Worn - Hillsong's Cornerstone. When we sing that in church I'm a mess.  My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness.

Yes, redemption does win.  A song does rise from the ashes of a broken life.  All that's dead inside can be reborn. Christ alone is the cornerstone.  I am weak but have been made strong in the Savior's love and know that through the storm He is Lord of all.

The storm that is Victor's diagnosis has fluctuated between raging winds and calm breezes.  Through it all, I know that He is Lord.

Some of you have seen Mariana's video of Victor underneath his activity mat, vigorously kicking his feet as he "watches" the Christmas lights the vision therapist suggested we put there.  The Good Doctor and Mariana have been very excited by that video, believing that Victor's excitement is due to seeing the lights.  I have not been convinced, nor has his therapist.  Because I have seen him get just as excited when simply playing on his back, lights turned off.  I haven't said much, not wanting to be the pessimist when they so desperately wanted to believe he was seeing.  And when the therapist would come, she agreed that he wasn't showing any response to lights on or lights off.

But last night was different.  After spending all afternoon and evening sitting in waiting rooms with Isaac who is now sporting a lovely wrist brace over his broken wrist, the result of overzealous teammates at soccer practice, he and I were quietly watching Victor under the lights of his activity mat. We both noticed that when the lights cycled off, he got very still and peaceful.  When they came back on, we saw that his eyes were as big as could be and Victor started to kick his little feet again.  We looked at each other; thinking the same thing - Victor is seeing the lights.  His therapist was here this morning and we tried a repeat performance.  And Victor had the same peaceful reaction when the lights went off.

When Heidi Baker prayed over Victor, she said something like, "His eyes are going to get better each day." I don't know if God is going to heal Victor's eyes.  I don't know if he is going to see more than light or dark.  But I'm going to continue to ask.  I'm going to ask in faith, that Victor's eyes will get better each day.  I have to ask.  I'm worn from asking but I will keep asking.  I'm worn from the discouragement of a child with special needs but I'm trusting in the Cornerstone that is holding each of us up in the trials of life.