Tomorrow

The surgery is over. We've been home a week and 3 days. Recovery is going well.

Now it gets tough.

Juggling work, family, school and doctors appointments and therapy appointments and checking insurance claims against bills. Then add Christmas! And programs and parties.

The surgery was cake compared to what lies ahead.

Therapy is not pretty. It hurts her. It's hard to watch.

But it's essential.

A doctor once told me that he does not allow Grandparents to attend therapies or certain medical procedures because a Grandpa once cold-cocked him for causing his grandchild pain. This doctor went on to explain that a parent is willing to see their child endure pain in order to accomplish a greater good. Hence, the pain of therapy for the benefit of being more mobile. A grandparent wants to intervene and stop all pain, regardless of the benefit.

I think this is why God has no Grandchildren.

Father God is willing to let us suffer temporary pain in order to bring us into a relationship with Him. We must each have our own relationship with Him as Savior. We cannot go to Heaven on the experiences of our parents or grandparents. We cannt go to Heaven based upon the ethereal definitions of being a "good" person or being "kind". It is all about relationship.

God is longing to have a relationship with you. He wants you to know Him personally, intimately. Not just know "of" Him. The demons know "of" God. The angels in Heaven know God as creator. But only you, only a Human Being can have a relationship with Him. He will be what you need when you need it - Father to the fatherless; Husband to the husbandless; Friend to those who feel unloved. He will be your Provider. He will be your Healer. He longs to be your Father.

Won't you answer His call?

Father, I want to have a relationship with you. I want to know Father God as more than a vague reference to a disconnected diety. I want to Know you. My life has not been perfect. I am a flawed being and your perfection is sometimes intimidating. But I will take you at your word when you say you love me just as I am. I accept the gift of Salvation that you offer to me. I accept a new start for my life. I believe you are God. You are the only God. I want you to be my God; my Savior, my friend. I choose today to turn away from my own selfish ways. I choose to walk with you. Walk with my, Father. Thank you.

Surgery Date

Miss Periwinkle.
Puddin'.
Pink and Precious.
Sister.
Sister Ruth.

All the many names given to our beautiful daughter.

She was born on July 24, 1998. She was so tiny. And very blue. She did not breathe on her own right away. Her Mom got her to take her first breath. We named her Ashley Ruth Wilson Beach.

Ashley - the name her daddy gave her when he first learned I was pregnant.

Ruth - after my dear Mimi, Ester Ruth Farris.

Wilson - my maiden name.

Beach - our family name.

Ashley Ruth, as her brother Chris called her, was a great baby! She slept! She ate well! She was rarely fussy. We dressed up like a doll - somethings in 4 or 5 outfits a day just to take her pictures! She wore preemie clothes for 2 months and slept in a baydoll basket my grandmother had made for my babies.

All was quiet and peaceful until she was 6 months old. Then a roll from a bed, combined with medication she was taking, caused a tear in her carotid artery to clot and 24 hours later cause a massive ischemic infarct.

Early in the morning, we were awakened by her screams. We tumbled over each other as we rushed down the hall to see what was wrong. Hours later, the projectile vomiting began - 10 feet through the bed rails across the room and down the wall.

Most of the rest is a blur. Doctors visits. Coming home. My mom holding her as she began her first signs of seizures. My mom, her Gran, holding her when she had her first grand mal seizure. Emergency room, ct scans, admittance and the word "stroke."

Nine and a half years have passed and we are preparing for her 3rd surgery. In three months, she's gone from hiking in the woods to using a wheel chair. Her tendons have tightened. The dystonia is worse. (Dystonia is like a spasm or uncontrolled muslce movement. Think of a person with Parkinsons Disease.)

Two months ago, I was beginning papework for surgery with the Shriner's Hospital in Utah. Two weeks ago, it became apparent that she needed the procedure quicker than the Shriner's could accomodate. One weeks ago I was hoping we could have surgery within 3 weeks. Today, I have 6 days to prepare for a 3 day trip.

Trooper.
Super Trooper.
Great Trooper.

Those are the new titles she's been given. Every teacher who wrote me, called her a Trooper! What a great legacy! Nothing keeps her down!

So, one week from today,we will be in Denver, CO. On Wednesday, November 19 we will check into Denver Children's Hospital (www.thechildrenshopsital.org) and at 2:00 pm, Ashley will go into surgery with Dr. Frank Chang for a Strayer Procedure on her soleus tendon.

I'm giving you specifics so that you can pray with specifics. David and Chris will be here. It's important each child have a parent with them. Chris is the ultimate big brother, her first physical therapist and best advocate.

Our friend Marilyn Rogers will be traveling with Ashley and me. We will leave early Tuesday morning, stay in the hospital Wednesday night and return home Thursday.

And some time on Friday, I'll breathe!

But I will rejoice! I will rejoice that God redeems the pain of this world! I will rejoice for the joy that is my daughter!

Father - hold me tonight.

Never Say Never

Okay, it's almost a James Bond title. We like Bond movies in our house and argue over which is the best. (In Her Majesty's Secret Service; The World Is Not Enough, if you're asking).

But it fits.

To all those who said Ashley would never walk - she hiked over 6 miles this weekend.

To all those who said Ashley would never understanding much - she spent the weekend with her new sisters. When asked what made them sisters? They all had the same Father. Christ.

To all those who thought we'd never have children - our oldest played beautiful soccer in Telluride this weekend.

Never say never. God doesn't.

Ashley's Poem

As you may know, our 10 year old daughter was only 6 months old when she suffered a massive mid-cerebral arterial stroke leaving her with approximately 1/2 of the right side of her brain fully functional as well as left hemi-paretic cerebral palsy. There have been years of physical therapy, countless doctors visits, horrible Botox injections and two surgeries to get her where she is today. Ashley is a trooper - she skis, rides her own quad, is an avid Girl Scout and is very tender hearted. Her dream is to be a mom. She is behind one grade level but functions quite well despite her disability.

God has truly redeemed her pain.

Ashley loves to write. Sometimes in talking, she has trouble find the right words for a conversation, but with pen in hand, she can take her time. Recently, we found the following poem she had written.

My Place by Ashley Beach

I don't seem like a regular girl, because I am so rigid
But you are wrong about me, you are wrong about me
Because you don't know me.
My days have been so wrong but I deal with it
Because I am strong, I am strong.

That's my girl! She is strong! She is compassionate! She has a heart for God. She is my hero.

Here we go. . .

I am just three days away from my 40th Birthday!

How to I preserve this trip - or survive it!?! Like I've always done - by writing. I've written volumes of journals through the years.

Blogging is new to me. This is going to be an interesting trip.

Maybe someone will join me - maybe it will just be me, the computer and God.

But, strap in, it's going to be a joyful ride!

KB