11/20/2021 Update
It was one year ago today.
One year ago today, when Rich came into the room saying, “Kristi, there’s been an accident. It’s Zachary.”
These photos were taken by an on-looker at the beach that day, the last moment Zac stood on his own, before running back to the waves to retrieve the kayak that began to float away.
One year ago today, when instantly my heart failed me, when I was suddenly tossed into the raging sea, when the fire was stoked seven times hotter…. my precious boy became instantly paralyzed, as did my heart.
But just for a moment.
For the Word of God came rushing in, speaking a deeper hope and truth.
Eternity.
Truth that life is much bigger than what we live
That brokenness is fleeting
That God is up to something exceedingly greater that we can imagine
Hope.
Belief that God is able to perform that which He has promised
That loss is an illusion
That faith reveals what is not yet seen
I am thankful for this year.
It has set my absolute dependence upon the Lord like never before.
It has constrained me to live by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.
Words of Truth greater then Zacs injury.
The first time I saw fear from Zac post injury was in the hospital when he said to me, “I just don’t want lose this closeness I feel to the Lord.” For deep down in Zacs heart, the Lord was carving into my son His eternal purposes and perspective. For the presence of God in his life made the fire desirable.
I enjoyed a sweet moment this week….
It’s a new perspective of airport travel to now remember to request an isle chair to transport my son, to be a part of the disabled group when boarding the plane, to be the last ones off so no one has to wait for us…
Zachary, Everest, and I had just landed in Denver and were making our way together through the terminal when we came upon a long, steep slope to the baggage claim area. Zac’s chair began to pick up speed as he went flying way ahead of us, zipping past all of the people, disappearing into the distance. Everest and I watched with amusement as we continued to trudge on with our suitcases, now very far behind.
“Who’s handicapped now?” I smiled to Everest.
We see things so backwards in life sometimes. Our strength is in Jesus, not in our flesh.
“For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.” 2 Cor 4:17
Pour down Your glory, Lord.
All we want is more of You.