In two weeks, it will be the morning after the biggest hospital appointment of our year. In two weeks, we will know, a little bit more, the long term consequences of Heidi's Kawasaki Disease.
As the two weeks draw near, I find myself flitting between a determined denial; an understanding that I can do nothing to change the outcome and therefore there's no point in even thinking about it, and a deepset fear. I know the Lord holds our Heidi utterly in his hands, but sometimes the unknown is easier to swallow than the truth...
In two weeks, we will return to the Royal Brompton for another Consultant appointment: vitals, followed by an ECG, followed by an Echo (heart scan) followed by the all important Consultant meeting, where we will once again find out what is going on in our littlest girl's body.
If you have no idea what I'm talking about, you can read Heidi's story here. The initial trauma is over, but the long term consequences, and the day-to-day background anxiety of a child with a serious heart condition, continue.
And so, in two weeks, we will know.
In two weeks, we'll know whether Heidi's last affected coronary artery has healed itself like the others
In two weeks we'll know whether the aneursysms that literally covered our baby girl's arteries have gone forever.
In two weeks, we'll know whether Chicken Pox will continue to be our worst enemy, or simply a childhood illness to be endured.
In two weeks, I'll know whether any mention of Chicken Pox turns our daughter into a recluse, or whether she will have the freedom to mix and play with children who "may" be carrying it.
In two weeks, we will know whether her daily medication can be stopped, or whether it will need to continue.
In two weeks, we'll know whether this has been a short,
painful chapter in our lives, or whether it will be a lifelong book with chapters yet to
In two weeks, we'll know whether we will ever be able to look back on this difficult, lifechanging period of our lives as history, or whether it will may well always be a reality we live with.
How do you begin to get your head around that knowledge, when Kawasaki Disease and its devastating consequences have lived for the past 18 months like the silent, unwelcome fifth member of your household? When EVERY gathering with other children strikes that slight fear that perhaps will bring our Heidi into contact with something that could be life-shattering for her? When every dinner time is followed by a dose of medication that never lets you forget? When your daughter is removed from the public for nearly six months because she can't afford to risk catching certain illnesses?
The prospect of healing is unfathomable... and yet the Doctor's told us they were hopeful.
So I begin to prepare my mind for this appointment. Two weeks, and things will be much clearer.
One way or the other...
Do I hope? Or do I put up my self-protective wall that won't let me hope, because the fall down will be too hard?
Or do I do that other thing? That thing I've been learning in a more real, painful, world-shattering, broken-but-beautiful way...
Do I trust that the Saviour holds our girly in his hands? That his will WILL be done? And that it will be for his glory, and Heidi's good? That I can know, without shadow of a doubt, that whatever happens in two weeks is absolutely right?
Do I trust Him?
The answer - through the trips and turns, the tunnels, the valleys, the bottom of the pit and lower - has proved this past 18 months to be "yes"...
I can trust Him. He has proved so very, very, faithful.
And so, Lord, I do.
Help me when I doubt...