Orange, the Olympian

I looked in disbelief. I was pretty sure I saw what I thought I was seeing. But maybe I should ask someone else just in case.

"Steven," I whispered, "Do you see that?"

"What?" He said much too loudly.

I was afraid the sheer volume of his voice would cause the scene to vanish before he could validate its certain absurdity.

"Oh!" He exclaimed.

And then we both sat in silence for a few moments taking in the oddity.

Thomas finally peered over the edge of the examination table to check out the object of our attention. Being thoroughly 4 and thoroughly impressed, he hopped up and grabbed it before we could stop him.

We were at the Children's Hospital waiting to see if the doctor could fix a mild internal defect Thomas was born with. He had already been through so much that day. His little body had endured some really traumatic testing, and this was the first sign of excitement he'd shown the whole time we'd been waiting for results. But I have to admit, I wish we'd been a little bit faster and snapped a picture of this before it was too late.

When we arrived that morning Thomas was given a comic book, some coloring sheets and a small package of crayons. He clung to them all day even though he wasn't very interested in playing. While he was resting on top of the table, he accidentally kicked off one crayon- I believe it was orange.

It fell down and landed perpendicular to the floor- NOT on its side and NOT on the big end. The thing was standing on its drawing tip. A brand new, unused crayon had fallen off a table and, without bouncing, landed on its tiny end and STAYED!!!!

Orange stuck its landing without so much as a wobble! I expected it to throw up its waxy arms in salute to the judges' table and wave to the television cameras as it made its way to the Olympic platform to claim its gold medal. I mean, WOW! This crayon could do it all!

Luckily Steven and Thomas were there to keep me from re-enacting this whole Olympic Fanfare scene. Otherwise, they may have sent me to another hospital in Birmingham...one with doors that lock behind you. I digress.

I've meant to blog about this crayon incident before...I've meant to just TELL people about the crayon before. But I've forgotten. And as far as I know, this is the first time I've talked about it to anyone except Steven. But I had an epiphany-type moment earlier this week with God having to do with the crayon...much like the moment when God spoke to me (in my heart, not audibly) through my bagel at Judson- but that will need to be for another post.

Anywho-

It doesn't matter if you are the pink crayon or the cornflower blue crayon; if you are from the kid's meal package of four or the classroom pack of 800; it doesn't matter if you are Rose Art or Crayola- there will come a time in your existence when you are hurtling through the air so fast and furiously there will seem to be absolutely nothing you can do to stop it. Some crayons may have taken this plunge on their own, but most have been kicked off the table without a choice. The detriment befalling them will occur no matter what they do.

So what do we do?

When life-altering situations arise and we are powerless...
When we are asked to bear hurts that seem impossible...
When you know God is capable of healing but He chooses not to...

Life happens. We can't stop the pain of it. So what will you choose instead?

I want to be like Orange. I want to choose to stand straight and tall even in the hardest position possible. I want to look over at God's judgment seat with my hands raised up in victory! And I want to feel His arms around me when He, like Thomas, looks down from the examination table and snatches me up because He's too excited about me to leave me there! And I will know He is impressed with me because HE made me just the way He wanted me...the exact shade, the perfect balance of waxiness and pigment, large and washable or a glittery Twistable! And the best part is, all I had to do was choose to be what He made me and stand up for Him.

In closing, I will share one last thing that probably sums up what I'm saying better than anything else:

When Steven's best friend died unexpectedly earlier this year, Neal Hughes, a dear friend and worker with the North American Mission Board, came back home to preach at the funeral. He read Isaiah 40:31, "But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint." He talked about how glorious it is when you feel like you're flying with God. But then sometimes when you just can't fly, HE still gives you the strength to run. And then, if you just can't run, He still gives you the strength to walk without fainting if we but WAIT on Him.

This year we, as a family unit, have known pain, hurt, betrayal and trials the likes of which we have never experienced before. I know many of you will say the same about your own situations. And so many times, I have not had the strength to even keep walking. But, I STAND. And, in the name of Jesus, I WILL STAND.

And, every time I see a box of crayons, I will be reminded to just keep on STANDING!

"Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, TO STAND." Ephesians 6:13