Looking back on 2012 brings to my mind one prominent month: May. What happened in May? My father's heart had arrhythmia trouble. It lasted only a month, but it still affects me today.
I remember waking up on a Saturday morning and thinking I could watch "Justice League" all by myself because the little boys were gone and nobody else would be awake yet. But there dad sat, in his favourite seat on the living room couch, staring out across the orange-tinted yard through the front windows. He told me that his heart was having the same trouble he had had with it in America, and he didn't know what we would do about it. As I sat beside him and placed my head on his chest, all I heard was the horrid rhythm that couldn't stick with the beat. Buhm bummm bmpp BUM bum bum.
The whole next month he couldn't walk across the room without resting, and couldn't sit up long enough to finish a movie with us. As we (us four kids) heard our parents discuss insurance troubles, we began to wonder what it all meant. Would we have to go back to America? If so, how long? If they didn't fix it, daddy couldn't work here. Would that mean moving back to Oregon? I remember one day momma told us kids to pack our bags. When we asked for how many days we needed to pack for, she said she had no idea. When are we leaving? No clue. Where are we going? Not sure yet. It's not easy to pack when you don't know those three things.
Eventually, it all worked out. Daddy and momma went to South Africa and we stayed with our good friends/neighbours. But what amazes me even more than how God healed daddy is how He sustained us throughout the uncertainty of it all. People I have talked to about it say that they couldn't imagine how frightening it must have been for us kids to stay in a foreign country with our parents in another foreign country for serious medical work. I say that's it's a pretty simple matter. We just continued on the same way we did before--with God's help. I believe the only reason us kids didn't freak out or break down crying from stress is the prayers that people sent up on our behalf. In place of those afore mentioned emotions, we instead felt a peace and even close to an excitement. We somehow knew that whatever would happen to us next would be okay, no matter where we or our parents were. They might go to America and leave us here. They might come back soon. And I can't lie; there were a few times I wondered if they would ever return to us. But the busy lives we stepped into for the week our parents were gone kept us focused, and the silent strength and faith of our hosts added to the God-given peace we felt. I think on this and want to thank all of you who prayed for us, and thank our God for blessing us.
To be quite honest, I see the "scary" month of May as a trial I grew through. It taught me to forget what I thought was going to happen and just wait and see what God would do. We were supposed to go to Kenya. We waited, and God sent them to South Africa. The money it cost them to go to South Africa was supposed to toss out my braces. We waited, and God provided the money for both. I will always remember that month--May 2012--and praise my God.