I have the joy of sharing a wonderful guest post with you again this week. Gindi and I both attended the She Speaks conference. Be certain to let her know how much you appreciate her taking the time to share with us this week.
The alarms sound again. Heart rate increasing as oxygen levels drop once more. Surreal to be sitting in this room. Three years ago those tinny alarms pierced silence of the otherwise peaceful room filled with our three sleeping newborn babies. Children we had prayed God would bless us with for years. When He answered, He answered big. Boy, girl, boy – all in under two minutes.
We spent a month in a little room listening to those alarms back then. As the weeks passed, the time between their sounding grew longer.
Baby C, the littlest, the one doctors suggested “reducing,” is a big strapping strong three year old now. In his words, “I a big strong boy.” And here we sit, thirty-six months after that NICU release, readmitted.
He’s funny, this youngest of our triplets. A comedian. A flirt. He’s also the intellectual. A scavenger of knowledge. His asthma was always a footnote. A small stage comment in a beautiful play. This year, there have been more attacks. And this week’s virus turned into a 4 a.m. visit to the emergency room. The doctor admitted us, me attached to his side or he to mine, with a pneumonia diagnosis.
In these still quiet moments, curled up on a small hospital bed together, I see Thanksgiving on a grander scale. This beautiful holiday we, in America, will celebrate together tomorrow represents more to me in these hours leading up to it when viewed from a hospital room.
Ann Voskamp, in her beautiful book One Thousand Gifts, writes about thankfulness in every season, even those of hardship and heartache. In her opening chapter, she shares this, “I wonder too…if the losses that puncture our world, our own emptiness, might actually become places to see. To see through to God. That that which tears open our souls, those holes that splatter our sight, may actually become the thin, open places to see through the mess of this place to the heart-aching beauty beyond. To Him. To the God whom we endlessly crave.”
Jamy grandly entitles this blog Living With Eternal Perspective. I say grandly because what could be grander? As a married working mother-of-three, I all too often get wrapped up in the melee and chaos and schedules and frenzy. My perspective is lost in the logistics. But a few days in a hospital room with cords and IVs and alarms slams that destructive cycle into a brick wall. It reminds me that all of us should be living with eternal perspective. What if the things in our life that tear at the fundamental fabric of our being allow us to see through to God? What if this time away, unplugged, unscheduled, was a Thanksgiving blessing from the Most High?
This Thanksgiving there will be much to be thankful for, and I will reserve a portion of my thanks for the gift of some eternal perspective.
Gindi Eckel Vincent is a full time attorney, part time writer, wife and momma to three precocious three year olds. She blogs daily at www.gindivincent.com and has her first book about leadership coming out in the Spring.