Without a Word_ How a Boy's Unspoken Love Changed Everything - Jill Kelly [45]
Dear Reader, will you please do something for me? Will you look up the definition of miracle? (Seriously, grab your dictionary, go to the “m” section, and read what it says.) Our son Hunter fit every description.
The Webster’s dictionary that I’m looking at right now says that a miracle is: “(1) an event or action that apparently contradicts known scientific laws and is hence thought to be due to supernatural causes, esp. to an act of God; (2) a remarkable event or thing; marvel; (3) a wonderful example.”1 Hunter’s life “contradicted all known medical laws.” (I know it says “scientific,” but just go with me here.) The doctors stopped trying to figure him out because he didn’t fit the Krabbe model found in their textbooks. He was supposed to die before his second birthday, but he didn’t. According to the definition, I would consider that “a remarkable event to marvel over,” and certainly “a wonderful example.”
His life was a constant example of courage, suffering, joy, and so much more. And if I can be so bold, he was the miracle. I know the miracles in the Bible were different from what I’m talking about, but can’t God speak a miracle through a little boy, without words? I know that the God I worship can work miracles even now through my son.
Let’s go back to the journal entries….
May 18, 2003—Today is my wedding anniversary. Yippee (yeah, right). Jim and I have been married seven years. Am I supposed to be happy about that?
Lord, You saw that Leah [a woman in the Old Testament book of Genesis] was unloved. You looked on her affliction. You listened to her cries and remembered her sorrow. I know that You see me! I know that You see my marriage.
I feel like an old woman, like a dried-up lake, like a shriveled flower—my soul feels withered and numb. I’m lonely and afraid. Please soften my heart and change me. My desires are dead—is this because of my unwillingness to fully forgive? I’m so tired and have no energy to even try. Please rescue me from myself and from this lonely road I am traveling. Replace bitterness with beauty, sadness with a promise of love, and dread with a yearning for intimacy. I want to give up—I sort of already have… and yet this beautiful boy lying here next to me is a constant reminder to press on, to never give up—not on anything or anyone, especially his daddy.
May 29, 2003—Hunter was checking himself out in the mirror today because he lost another adorable baby tooth. I hate to see his baby teeth go because they’re so perfect, but he’s growing and big boy teeth are coming in… and that’s awesome. As I sit here writing, I’m overcome by the simplicity of my son’s life, and yet the magnitude of suffering he endures is far from simple.
I think HB has looked at himself in a mirror maybe a dozen times in his entire life. Unfortunately, and I hate to admit it, I spend way too much time in front of a mirror. There must be something incredibly profound in this mirror thing.
Hunter’s free from the expectations of the mirror. That’s it. And quite possibly that’s why he radiates such beauty all the time. His cares are not of this world. Amazing, so amazing.
June 2, 2003—Hunter has a broken arm. I can’t believe this. As hard as we try and as careful as we are, somehow he broke his arm. The fracture is right below his shoulder. We’re all shocked. He was having a hard time yesterday with apnea, probably because of his arm. As if he doesn’t have enough to deal with, now this. How did this happen?
The doctors are thinking he might need more calcium and magnesium in his diet to strengthen his bone density, especially because he’s sedentary and doesn’t move on his own. Please help him. Even though he has a broken arm, we’re still planning on flying a kite tomorrow. When will the tears cease?
July 18, 2003—After a trip to the hospital today and a few more x-rays, it looks like Hunter’s arm has finally healed. Thank God!
We had so much fun