One of my favorite memories of motherhood will always be seeing my little brown eyed girl defy gravity. Up and over and around she'd fly. Flips in the air, twirls on her toes, and with great precision she'd stick a landing as if she owned the floor beneath her feet.
From age 3 to 13. Over 10,000 hours invested. State championships. Great dreams. Amazing goals.
Then one night while doing a move she'd done hundreds of times, she fell. And more than just her body crashed to the ground. Her hopes and dreams shattered and splintered and scattered. Life as a gymnast ended.
Many doctors and countless therapy sessions only confirmed our fears. Her shoulder can no long support the weight of her body.
Her mind wills her to push through the pain and find the ability despite her limitations. She still tastes the dreams. She still feels the drive. But the reality of her shoulder has closed some doors forever.
Forever is really hard to accept.
I'll admit there are days I close my eyes and still see her. My breath catches in my throat and I miss seeing that brown eyed girl defying gravity. If I let my mind wander past the safe boundary of truth, my heart hurts and questions try and pull me into place of sorrow.
Tears. That sinking pit feeling. Unanswered questions. And that nagging sensation that some things really aren't fair.
And that's when I have to reign my heart back in- back within the boundaries of truth.
God is perfectly just even when circumstances seem terribly unfair. God loves my daughter. God has a plan. God can be trusted.
As I have parked my mind in this reality, small seeds of trust take root. God didn't cause Ashley's accident but He did allow it. I can't say for sure why. I would never presume to know the thoughts of God. But three possible reasons have brought me tremendous comfort...
1. He's protecting her from something worse happening.
2. He's providing something better that she can't even fathom yet.
3. It's all part of the process of growing her closer to Him.
And in that, I smile. I smile at this beautiful brown eyed girl who still defies gravity... just in a little different way now.
From age 3 to 13. Over 10,000 hours invested. State championships. Great dreams. Amazing goals.
Then one night while doing a move she'd done hundreds of times, she fell. And more than just her body crashed to the ground. Her hopes and dreams shattered and splintered and scattered. Life as a gymnast ended.
Many doctors and countless therapy sessions only confirmed our fears. Her shoulder can no long support the weight of her body.
Her mind wills her to push through the pain and find the ability despite her limitations. She still tastes the dreams. She still feels the drive. But the reality of her shoulder has closed some doors forever.
Forever is really hard to accept.
I'll admit there are days I close my eyes and still see her. My breath catches in my throat and I miss seeing that brown eyed girl defying gravity. If I let my mind wander past the safe boundary of truth, my heart hurts and questions try and pull me into place of sorrow.
Tears. That sinking pit feeling. Unanswered questions. And that nagging sensation that some things really aren't fair.
And that's when I have to reign my heart back in- back within the boundaries of truth.
God is perfectly just even when circumstances seem terribly unfair. God loves my daughter. God has a plan. God can be trusted.
As I have parked my mind in this reality, small seeds of trust take root. God didn't cause Ashley's accident but He did allow it. I can't say for sure why. I would never presume to know the thoughts of God. But three possible reasons have brought me tremendous comfort...
1. He's protecting her from something worse happening.
2. He's providing something better that she can't even fathom yet.
3. It's all part of the process of growing her closer to Him.
And in that, I smile. I smile at this beautiful brown eyed girl who still defies gravity... just in a little different way now.
Home