The dandelions that pop up in the spring don’t really matter.
Not to me, anyway.
I have yard work that seems to be endless, laundry that continues to pile up, and dust has made permanent residence in my house.
All of these things that were once at the top of my to-do list, aren’t as important as they used to be.
I used to worry about the amount of laundry that was on the floor of the laundry room…it always was caught up—always.
The snacks that were important to my kids and my husband used to always be available in our kitchen, or I thought I wasn’t a good mother.
I also used to think that I wasn’t a good mom unless I continually worried about all of this housework, and my kids.
Constant, consistent worry.
I was very good at it.
I was taught at a very young age that the amount of love you have for someone equals the amount of time you spend outwardly worrying about them.
Then my Olivia got sick at 3 months old.
In an instant, what once were priorities were no longer important.
I wasted so much of my time worrying about things that were really not worth my thoughts or my time.
I now had something to worry about.
On the day of her traditional baptism, she came down with a very high fever, and my husband and I took her to a pediatric emergency room. We entered with a small amount of fear, but were confident that she must have some sort of infection, we would be given a prescription for an antibiotic, and we would go home.
We were so very wrong.
Following drawing every type of fluid from her tiny body, the physician informed us that she had a very high white blood cell count, and they were trying to determine why.
As the nurse was preparing a needle to start an antibiotic, Olivia stopped breathing.
Right in front of my eyes, her skin was turning gray…I remember thinking, “ she actually looks gray.”
A trauma team was called, and an alarm sounded throughout the hospital. The sights and sounds of this moment will never leave my memory.
In that moment, I don’t even think I prayed.
When she was stable, we were able to see her.
And the tiny, 11 pound beautiful baby girl that began her day in a long, white baptismal gown, was now connected to many types of wires leading to all types of medical equipment.
We felt like we were in the middle of a horrible nightmare.
All of a sudden, I had something to worry about.
Priorities were made.
The things that really matter in life made their way to the surface of my family’s life.
And in a very short period of time, I realized that I never spent any time in prayer. I had no point of reference for a spiritual life, or how to even begin a conversation with God.
I now had something very large to worry about, and I knew I couldn’t do it in my own strength.
When we finally got to bring her home we were grateful for her life. We were thankful God guided our steps to the emergency room that night; had we put her to bed, she would have died in her sleep.
At about 6 months of age, we realized she was not opening her left hand as she should, and eventually learned that her left leg and foot were also not functioning as they should. Because of the trauma her brain experienced that night, Olivia is a person with hemiplegic cerebral palsy.
As a Mother, I spent the first year and a half after her trauma trying to make sense of it all and wondering, ‘Why her? Why us?’ I spent most of my days focusing on her limitations instead of her strengths. I fell into a depression I thought I wouldn’t recover from. I thought that if I accepted this disability that had made its way into our life, and not outwardly show the world how much pain and worry it was causing us, then I was a bad Mom. How could I love her and not be in a constant state of worry?
Through all of my pain, Olivia led me to the Lord. As she drew strength from me, I sought strength from God. There was no other option; in order to get out of my ashes and care for my daughter, I had to cling to His promises and His hope.
…(The Lord will) “provide for those who grieve in Zion-to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.”(Isaiah 61:7 NIV)
I accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior, and I received His promises. I work at it each and every day, it is definitely a process...
I feel so very humbled and overwhelmed that God turned the most painful days of my life into such beauty so that His love can be seen and heard through my words. And through Olivia’s life.
She is 10 years old now, and is doing great. She wears a brace on her left leg, to help her balance and walking. She is so full of God’s light and joy, strangers that see her for the first time comment on her beautiful spirit.
She is the epitome of John 9:2…His disciples asked,” [Jesus], who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” “Neither this man nor his parents sinned, said Jesus, but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life.”
So, when my neighbors are cringing at the sight of the dandelions in my yard in the spring, I just have to smile and thank the Lord that He has shown my husband and I that the little things that bother people, usually don’t matter in this life He’s given us. He made the dandelions for us to enjoy.
Olivia sees the dandelions as pretty yellow flowers to pick for her mommy, they are bright creations from God-- and so is she.
My life mission is to be the best Mom that I can be to Olivia and her brother, Jonah—and to help special parents everywhere realize that they were chosen by Almighty God to parent their kids, they can stop and even enjoy the dandelions-- and they will survive.
