Tag: trauma

The One That Will Never Change

- dannalundstrom

It was June, the summer of 2005. We were preparing to move from Hoover, Alabama to Vestavia Hills, Alabama. Carter was six and Macey four. This particular week, the kids and I were participating in Vacation Bible School. I had made a deal with them that if they learned our new address and phone number by the end of the week, on Friday after VBS we would get ice cream. Every morning on the way to church and every afternoon on the way home we practiced in the car over and over again.

Friday morning came and along our drive I asked Macey, “what is our new phone number going to be?” She answered with ease and efficiency. Then I asked Carter, “what is our new address going to be?” He too answered correctly and promptly. A silence fell over the car until a little voice piped up from the backseat. In the most curious of tones, Carter asked, “Hey mom, I was just wondering, what our new last name is going to be?” After I had caught my breath from laughing so hard, I explained that there are some things we are born into, and they never change because they were given to us. I am not sure my answer made sense to him, but it seemed to satisfy his curiosity at the moment.

Carter and I have had to ponder a similar question a lot together over the past year. His life was changed forever one year ago today, July 28, 2014. All of our lives were changed. Despite all the redirections, again I can tell Carter, some things will never change because they were given to us. The One we did not earn that was given to us for free will never change.

Although our physical locations may change, and we change, our identity as a child of God will never change. The moment we accept Jesus as our Savior, we are adopted into the family of God. Our identity, as his beloved son, or beloved daughter can not be altered by circumstances. He delights in us on our best days, and just as much on our worst days. No amount of good works or model behavior can earn us His love. They were imparted to us when we chose to believe. Ephesians 2:8-10 ~God saved you by his grace when you believed. And you can’t take credit for this; it is a gift from God. Salvation is not a reward for the good things we have done, so none of us can boast about it. For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.

What a gift we have in Jesus. I cannot even fully comprehend the depth of His sacrifice. He has been a faithful friend to us through the hardest of times. It is not because we have Him that our lives are easy. It is because we have Him that our lives are changed for the better. He brings purpose to our pain and consistency to circumstances that continually change.

Last night I was replaying the last year in my head. I never knew looking back on my past tears would bring so much abundance to my present years. Situations that seemed like the hardest of times were in many ways the sweetest of times in retrospect.

Suffering is the soil most fertile for growth and change is often God’s conduit for the cultivation of hearts. We can joyfully and fully embrace our struggles because we later find we have walked out of them having found our greatest strengths.

We are all still works in progress in our family. It is a cradle to the grave process, but we can rest in the assurance that it is as it should be. Thank you Jesus for loving us in all our brokenness. Remind us everyday to rest in what was given to us and will never change-You. This picture is a side by side taken one year apart.

This week we have been at the lake surrounding ourselves with friends who remind us most of the love of Jesus! Thank you all who have joined us this last year and this week. We love you!

Fragmented Edges, Hopeful Hearts

- dannalundstrom

Carter had his first of three appointments with the vision doctor yesterday. We were there two hours; it felt like five. It was a long afternoon, and very taxing for him physically, and ultimately emotionally.

I think it is difficult in any situation to not form expectations in our heads. This holds true in happy scenarios and difficult ones. Our pictures, which are very often our own worst enemies, can be thieves of peace when they develop differently than how they looked from behind the lens of our vision.

I went into yesterday’s appointment knowing there were visual issues; I just didn’t realize the extent and multitude of them. It honestly felt like the air had been sucked out of my sails, as I was not prepared.

I know many of you moms know this and live this every day, when you hear a doctor tell your child something like, “I know you don’t much joy in your life right now, and it may be that way for a while,” that is heart breaking! Even harder, I am forty-two. I can reason and find gratitude amidst the grief. For a fifteen year old boy, that is an arduous task, further clouded by the effects of a head injury.

Sometime after we got home from Oregon, I found a white, small bag in my laundry room. I didn’t know what it was or where it came from. We had very little luggage, and I never saw it in Carter’s hospital room or in any of our bags. I have no idea how it got in my laundry room. When I opened it up, it smelled awful, and I immediately knew it was something that had been wet, and in that bag for a long time. Upon pulling it out, I felt my heart rise to the top of my throat, and sink with a hard painful plunge into the depths of my stomach.

It was the swimsuit Carter was wearing when his accident happened. It was shredded and frayed because it had been cut off his body. I cannot adequately describe the intense infusion of opposite emotions at that moment as I sunk to the cold, hard ground. It was like being pulled between intimidating agony and intense appreciation. I cried and then I rejoiced right there on the uninviting but accommodating laundry room floor.

My first thought was to throw that swimsuit away, but for a reason I then did not understand, I could not do it. I washed it, folded it and put it on my laundry room shelf. It is in a spot that I see it every time I go in that room, which is frequent. Now and then I pick it up and hold it close to me. Each time I do this, the frayed, rough edges that are image bearers of the sharp edges that grazed them catch my eye. I keep being drawn to their messy appearance that is a remnant of the trauma that ensued.

It occurred to me one day that those edges keep beckoning my attention because they represent something important. That battered swimsuit is a great representation of both tragedy and triumph. It makes me think of what Jesus’ robe must have looked like at the end of his journey which would also illustrate great despair, but not void of eternal hope.

Life is kind of like Carter’s fragmented swimsuit. Sometimes things cut us up, unravel our plans and leave us feeling weary and worn, but when we live in the shadows of a Savior, we are never without hope, and we are ensured an ultimate victory. That is great news that we continue to rest in daily!

We continue to covet your prayers for healing friends. I am grateful and encouraged by all of you. Thank you from the deepest places of my heart.