27

www.27thebook.blogspot.com

Phoenix Outlaw Hull

I don't even know where to start...

This has been the hardest 3 weeks of my life.

And I am trying so desperately to find the light at the end of this suffocating tunnel but it seems a bit dim.

A flickering candle miles away.

But at least it's there...right?

"Things could always be worse." I said to the chaplain at the hospital just yesterday. He let out a dumbfounded laugh and looked like I had just slapped him across the face.

"Well, I don't know about that." he stuttered back to me.

You dont know about that?!

Why am I the one trying to convince someone, who doesn't even know me, that my nightmare of a situation could be worse??

Hope.

Supernatural, unrealistic, not of this world, crazy, will make a chaplain's head spin, Hope.

Hope.

I've never used that word so much in my life, to be honest.

I'm more of a "gotta have faith" person myself.

But as I look back on this past week, month, even year, I had hoped for so many things.

I had hoped to get pregnant.
I had hoped for a son.
I had hoped for my dearest friend Cat to get pregnant so we could do this together.
I had hoped for a healthy pregnancy.
I had hoped he was safe.
I had hoped my body would keep him safe for many many more days.

And as I was being rushed into surgery I hoped one last time.

I had hoped God would save him.

"God please save him. God please save him. God please save him."

I repeated that desperation of hope until they put me under.

I had all the hope in the world that God would save him.

And I think He did.

Not in the way I had intended my desperate plea, of course.

Maybe I should have been more specific?

But I truly believe that God did in fact save him.

You see, I think our son would have had a pretty rough life from the get go, and I think that God spared him, and us, from that.

He was born with several unforeseen complications, one being a double cleft lip which blocked them from getting an oxygen tube up through his nose.

They kept trying to resesitate him while I was still under.

I think God knew that I would not have the strength to witness that.

My heart just aches for my husband that he had to be the one to see that.

I can't even imagine.

And then to have to wait for me to wake up, only to have to tell me that our precious son did not make it.

Oh, my husband.
My beloved husband.

He has been through enough heartache to last a lifetime.

And yet, he still is the most humble man of God I know.

I am so blessed, blessed beyond words, to be able to call him my beloved.

I have had many people say to me that my strength and faith in God has been so inspiring through this.

To be honest, I have my moments.

But the only reason I can stand today is because of God.

But on the other hand, the only reason I need His help to stand was because of something He chose to have us go through.

The hardest lesson anyone will ever have to learn is this:

God always answers our prayers, but His answer is not always what we think it should be.

I think it takes some people their whole life to not only learn that lesson, but to have peace with it as well.

I learned that lesson pretty early in life when my brother passed away in 2008.

And let me tell you, that lesson did not go over well and the process I went through trying to understand it, wasn't pretty.

When bad, horrible, unforeseen tragedies happen we always ask the same question:

Why?

It's human nature to question things we do not understand.

Questioning is good.

Questioning in order to get the answer you want or need is foolish and will get you nowhere.

Trust me.

I have been that fool.

I have learned to be okay with not knowing why everything happens.

I have learned to be okay with the fact that God is God, and I am not.

And at the end of the day, I still have hope because I worship the God who is not persuaded by human longings. He is not pressured by our questions. He is the Master Weaver working everything for the good of those who love Him.

I don't think it was easy for God to do this to us and I think His heart hurts when, as our Father, He has to do what's best for us.

Jeremiah 29:11 has been in my head throughout all of this:

"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Now I have to be honest, this plan feels a lot more like harm instead of prospering.

The pain is, at times, excruciating.

But my hope will endure.

I hope that God will change my heart.
I hope that His plans become my own.
I hope that God blesses my husband for his unwavering and steadfast First Corinthians love.
I hope that we have many many more healthy children.

But above all, I hope for God to always be glorified through the story of Phoenix Outlaw Hull.

Our sweet son, who's short life here on earth has brought so many people into our lives that we can share the love of God with.

His short life has already rocked so many other people's lives in so many ways.

And it hasn't even been a week yet.

The story of Phoenix Outlaw will carry on for some time, I believe.

And I believe that God is going to take us somewhere great to share the legacy of Phoenix Outlaw and the hope that continues to be reborn from his story.