What Can’t Be Stolen

As I close in on the third trimester of this pregnancy, I’ve been feeling like it might be time to let go of some of my outside commitments.

Yes, I am officially slowing down so I can put my feet up every night. Could I sound any more like an old lady? But it’s the best treatment for my pregnancy-induced varicose veins and I know it’s what I need to do.

This Thursday will be my last time volunteering at the Women’s Pregnancy Center for a while and I’m going to miss it. I love our clients and our program’s mission (to create a supportive community for parents-to-be, equipping them to love, nurture, and protect their children). I am really going to miss our staff and volunteers. The men and women who give their time to serve at WPC are warm, generous, and ready to help anyone who needs it—they are high quality people.

About a month ago, our director told us that one of our volunteers had been attacked by her Great Dane. She’d been trying to soothe her dog after a seizure when he bit her in the face without warning. She was rushed to the hospital and got ninety stitches on her face.

Last week she came back to help, even though she is still healing, still on a liquid-only diet, and still dealing with pain. As we sat in a circle with our clients during small group time, she shared the details of her story and explained all the ways God protected her and her family. It happened during nap time when her toddler and kindergartener were safely tucked in bed. She’d been on the phone with the vet, so her dog’s bottom jaw actually went into her mouth, which made her facial injuries less severe. “And he didn’t get my eyes at all, though he came pretty close,” she said, tracing the scar’s line up between her eyes to her forehead.

“I know God has a reason for this,” she said later as we stood out in the parking lot talking. “It’s going to be part of my testimony.” We asked what else she’ll need to do for her treatment. She said she needs more dental work and that she’ll see the plastic surgeon again in December to talk about what else she might want to have done cosmetically. They can do laser treatment to minimize scarring, she explained. “But I’m okay if I always look the way I do now,” she said casually.

As I drove home that night I couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful she looked as she told her story. There was no trace of self-pity in anything she said. She didn’t talk much about the trauma of it all—how it felt to know she’d have to give up the dog she loved like one of her babies, what it was like to see her children panic over the blood on her face, or how it felt to look in the mirror for the first time and realize the severity of what had happened. She didn’t even mention the pain of her treatments or complain about her all-liquid diet. She was quick and matter-of-fact about the details and mostly just talked about God’s blessings.

She basically radiated the glory of Jesus out of every pore.

It made me think about a few recent meltdowns I’ve had over such important, earth-shattering things like potty-training frustration and the temporary discomfort of pregnancy, about missing my family up north and feeling over-tired.

My friend’s joy and gratitude in the middle of her crisis is shocking. She is not normal and I mean that in the best possible way. It was awesome to watch her share with our clients and know that they were probably amazed by her the same way I am. She has something we all want, whether we realize it or not: life-defining confidence in the goodness of God. It leads to a level of joy that can’t be stolen away by circumstances, no matter how hard.

“Let your good deeds shine out for all to see, so that everyone will praise your heavenly Father.” — Matthew 5:16