Things sometimes tend to get worse before getting better. Sometimes you must hit bottom before going up. If you read my last post entitled "The Great Sorrow" you may be asking yourself what could be worse than burying your infant son? This is the rest of the story.
Seventeen months after James died I delivered my second son. Corey was not breathing upon delivery, and he was handed off limp and unresponsive to the head delivery nurse who immediately began administering oxygen. Tense moments stretched by with no sound of a newborn cry. Familiar dread welled up afresh within me as I realized it was all happening again. I was about to lose another son. I laid there stunned, hope draining away. I begged God to let him live.
The sound of a snuffled cry broke the tension and brought a silent flow of grateful tears. Corey was alive and breathing! When the nurse placed him gently in my arms he was already sleeping comfortably.
"He had a really rough time," said Nurse Alice.
My eyes met hers, and I could read the emotional wrenching she'd just experienced while saving Corey's life. Alice had been present at James' birth also. She knew my story. Our families had a history. My dad built her house near my childhood home. Alice's daughter had been my sister's best friend. Alice understood.
I kissed Corey and reluctantly handed him back to her to be taken to the NICU for 24-hour observation because he'd been born as what was termed a "depressed baby" - limp and unresponsive. Interestingly enough I was also born a depressed baby. My mother told me that she witnessed me turning blue before the doctor got me breathing.
I chose a highly recommended pediatrician for Corey's doctor. As we discussed James' history the pediatrician recommended an xray of Corey's kidneys to be certain that he did not have a similar defect. Xrays confirmed that Corey was perfectly formed and healthy.
With the birth of Corey my grief over James became bearable. Corey thrived and became balm to my ravaged heart. His little, wiggling body in my arms eased the heartache. Corey did not take the place of James. I will always feel that James is missing from my life, but Corey certainly helped fill some of the void, and I loved Corey with all my heart.
Corey was my little man, and he brought pure joy. He was cute and clever and we loved each other deeply. Life leveled off and seemed sane at last. Corey was growing and learning at a swift pace. Our little family of three seemed to have a bright future ahead.
Corey was about two years of age when his dad changed jobs. He went from working for the town highway department to driving an 18-wheeler. The new job required him to go out of state for days at a time. My husband struggled with this at first but then seemed to harden his heart in order to come to grips with the regular separations. He began to grow distant. I did not know it then, but my husband began to be unfaithful. At this same time I discovered I was expecting our third child.
Our marriage disintegrated rapidly during my pregnancy. I was unable to pinpoint the reason. My husband's coldness and distance baffled me, and I began to wonder if he was struggling to remain faithful. In reality he had already begun traveling that destructive path. Eventually he revealed to me that he no longer loved me.
Our daughter Shanna was born without any complications. She was beautiful with a head of thick black hair. However, at her first check-up the pediatrician discovered a heart murmur. She had a tiny hole in one of the chambers of her heart which caused blood backflow. The pediatrician was fairly confident that the hole would eventually close on its own. I cried all day over this news. By age four there was no evidence of the murmur.
Meanwhile, the marriage imploded when I discovered the length and depth of my husband's betrayal, the double life which consisted of a home with wife and two children and another home and life with his mistress. His entire life became a twisted mangle of lies and deception that cut like a knife in the hearts of all those who were affected by his betrayal.
The depth of my anger, sense of rejection and betrayal and feelings of disgrace were more than I could bear. His transgressions against us seemed unforgivable. I wanted to preserve our family yet couldn't find it in me to forgive. Sadly, he made no effort to repent and restore our marriage.
Eventually, by his continued unfaithfulness he forced me to make him choose between us. He abandoned our home and our marriage but never bothered to divorce me. I suspect it was his attempt to control and hang on to us. I found myself a 24-year-old "single" mother of a 3-year-old and an infant. I possessed no job skills or experience. I was scared and didn't know what to do, and I was nursing a broken heart.
I carried on by "pulling up my boot straps" to keep from falling apart. I believed that if I did fall apart I'd be broken forever. I had to be strong for the children. They were the only thing that kept me going, but it was a difficult, unhappy existence.
The turning point came one spring day when just one more thing became "the straw that broke the camel's back." A literal kick in the ankle from my frustrated son was enough to bring everything crashing down. I burst into tears. Tears became anguished sobs from the depths of my sad soul. The dam broke at last, and I completely fell apart emotionally.
I wept with great sorrow over the shambles of my life, my choices and the consequences of them, and the hopelessness of my present situation. My heart silently cried out to the Lord, and I asked Him to help me if He really did exist. I asked Him to take me and my mess and rescue me somehow.
"Turn to me and be saved, all you ends of the earth; for I am God, and there is no other." ~ Isaiah 45:22
"And everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved..." ~ Joel 2:32
"I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved." ~ John 10:9
A peace settled softly over me; a kind of peace I had never experienced before. The sobs calmed, the tears dried. I began to feel a sense of great relief and freedom as though I'd been dragging around a heavy burden which had just been lifted.
A time of great reflection began over the following two weeks. It was as though my inward vision became suddenly clear. I comprehended that this clarity was not of me but of something new within me. The events of my life played through my mind's eye, and I watched them replay like a movie reel with a new perspective. The weight of each life event had accumulated over time and led me to a day of great regret, a spiritual bending of the knees, a giving up of control over the uncontrollable, and a heart at last surrendering completely to God. The day of my salvation had come ~ the turning point!
I'd been raised in church, had heard the good news of the Gospel and believed with my head that Jesus Christ was the Son of God who came to lay His life down in order to save the mankind. However, the belief in my head had never awakened in my heart until now.
Salvation brought the Comforter (the Holy Spirit) to dwell in me. Before this there had been a separation from God. Salvation bridged the gap and now God's Spirit was dwelling in me clearing my vision, guiding and transforming my life.
God took my broken heart and spirit and began to rebuild me. If I had known that God could rebuild shattered lives and make them better than ever, perhaps I wouldn't have resisted Him for so long. He is the One who was always slowly drawing me to Him and the One who gave me the faith to believe in the moment of life-altering salvation.
This to me is a great mystery of God, that He can orchestrate complete transformation in a broken, surrendered life and draw one into a deep love and knowledge of Him.
While Corey was balm to my soul, Shanna was sunshine. She had a special sparkle in her eyes and was such a happy, little girl in spite of everything. Her smile lit up a room.
God bless the crooked road that leads us straight to Him.
Corey
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Shanna
Corey, Mandy & Kaylee
Shanna, Chuck, Austin, Logan & Haydyn
