The story of MRI records under our bed
I had a dream last night about being somewhere and two women were dishonoring their husbands. I'm usually not so forward, but in my dream, I quickly whisked these two ladies aside and promptly explained to them in no uncertain terms how debilitating it is to their husbands to publically dishonor him.
I woke up and was going about my morning routine of first thing making the bed. While doing so, I spied a large envelope of MRI records under our bed. I know most people don't keep MRI records under their beds -- most people don't even have MRI records, especially not years' worth of them. But, we do.
These records under our bed tell a story. A story of God's grace and healing to a little boy. My thoughts flashed back to many years ago...
A little boy was born prematurely at 27-weeks-old and God spared his life. His parents were divorced when he was three. He spent the next few years of his life going back and forth between two homes. When he was 8, his mother was diagnosed with cancer. Only a little while later, he began experiencing severe headaches. He endured many months of suffering before the doctors finally realized he had a brain tumor. Only days after his first surgery, his mother died. His tumor returned the next year and he survived yet another major surgery. I remember, as young girl, praying and pleading with God to protect and spare this boy's life. There were times when there didn't seem to be a lot of hope. But, God was mercifu.
Today that little boy is my husband and the father of my daughter.
Yes, those MRI records do tell a story, a story I never want to forget. My husband has been through so much in his lifetime. He is a living miracle. Yet, how often I take him for granted. Like those two ladies in my dream, I have been guilty of using my words and my attitudes to tear him down and hurt him. Oh that I would remember more often how blessed I am! Many young women aren't married who would love to be, many wives have lost their husbands. Life is too short to focus on short-comings, to nag, to bicker, to pester, to criticize. There may not be a tomorrow. For today, I want to never forget the story of those MRI records under our bed.
I woke up and was going about my morning routine of first thing making the bed. While doing so, I spied a large envelope of MRI records under our bed. I know most people don't keep MRI records under their beds -- most people don't even have MRI records, especially not years' worth of them. But, we do.
These records under our bed tell a story. A story of God's grace and healing to a little boy. My thoughts flashed back to many years ago...
A little boy was born prematurely at 27-weeks-old and God spared his life. His parents were divorced when he was three. He spent the next few years of his life going back and forth between two homes. When he was 8, his mother was diagnosed with cancer. Only a little while later, he began experiencing severe headaches. He endured many months of suffering before the doctors finally realized he had a brain tumor. Only days after his first surgery, his mother died. His tumor returned the next year and he survived yet another major surgery. I remember, as young girl, praying and pleading with God to protect and spare this boy's life. There were times when there didn't seem to be a lot of hope. But, God was mercifu.
Today that little boy is my husband and the father of my daughter.
Yes, those MRI records do tell a story, a story I never want to forget. My husband has been through so much in his lifetime. He is a living miracle. Yet, how often I take him for granted. Like those two ladies in my dream, I have been guilty of using my words and my attitudes to tear him down and hurt him. Oh that I would remember more often how blessed I am! Many young women aren't married who would love to be, many wives have lost their husbands. Life is too short to focus on short-comings, to nag, to bicker, to pester, to criticize. There may not be a tomorrow. For today, I want to never forget the story of those MRI records under our bed.
posted by Crystal Paine at 3:00 PM
16 Comments:
Crystal,
That was an extremely touching post. I am coming close to tears, because of the love in your words.
I am very thankful for my husband and yet I know what you mean about dishonoring our husbands. I try very hard not to fall into that trap and yet it is so easy to do so. It is so easy to be talking to a girlfriend(esp those that might not be Christians)and have them start complaining about their husband and then you find yourself joining in. Why is it so easy, when we so love these men?
Thank you for reminding me of the reason we shouldn't dishonor our husbands publicly(and sometimes we even do it privately).
I pray that the Lord will help me to honor my husband everyday and that by doing so I can show him my love.
Crystal,
I was reading this and I was about in tears. I barely know you but from your blog and a few e-mails back and forth for different things, but I must tell you that you are a extreme blessing to me. And example to me with your life.
Thank you for taking a stand and using everyday life to show us how much we need God.
Love
Nichole
That was inspiring, Crystal! Thank you so much for sharing it. I love hearing stories like that :).
Thank you so much for sharing this Crystal. It really touched me. I feel like you've showed me a little bit of your soul and I really hope that in the next few years when I might meet a guy and maybe get married, that it will stay with me.
Crystal,Thank you for sharing this with us. I need the reminder that I should never undermine my Dear Loving Husband and that I should always Honor My Husband no Matter What.
Perfect words in God's perfect timing.....thank you. :-)
This is why I am asking you to be more practical because of all those MRIs. You can live back at home with your parents but many woman do not have that benefit.
Crystal, Amen.
Crystal - wonderful post! My husband was born a month premature with underdeveloped lungs. His lungs burst about 6 times and he was in the hospital for three months with chest tubes. At one point, the doctors told his parents that he would never make it,and that they needed to remove all support. Thankfully, there was a blessed nurse who encouraged my in-laws to wait a few more days. My husband improved, but the doctors still warned that he would never live past three. He has gone on to live a healthy life. The only way it affects him still is in some slight hearing and speech problems from being on oxygen for so long. I don't have a file of MRI records under our bed, but ever time I see the multiple scars (about 7) on his chest from the tubes, I thank God that he let this wonderful man live. Your post reminded that I, too, am very blessed! Thanks!
Wow! What a story Crystal! I didn't know you knew your husband growing up. I am a little curious. What happened to your husband after the surgery and his mother was gone? Did he grow up an orphan of sorts or was his father around?
Wow Crystal,
That was a very touching story.
That is so neat that you knew your husband when you were young! Thank you so much for the reminder of how we wives need to treat our dear husbands! I totally agree with Sommer that it is SO easy to say something dishonoring about your husband even though we love them so much.
Thank you so much for that post! It brought tears to my eyes.
~Jen
Thank you for sharing, that was very touching. May the Lord continue to bless you, Jesse and your precious little girl.
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Thank you for sharing, Crystal. Beautifully touching and well-written post!!
Thank you for all the encouraging comments! God is so good.
Martha: After Jesse's mom died, he moved in full-time to live with his dad and family. He started being homeschooled and the Lord used these trials in his life to bring him to salvation.
Your post reminded me of a daily experience I have. My husband was adopted when he was 5 years old. He was taken from his biological family, but only after he had witnessed and been forced to participate in many ugly things. He spent some time in foster care, and then came to live with his adoptive mother. When he arrived at her home, he came with a blue suitcase with a small white blanket in it. Thats all. He still has the suitcase, blanket enclosed. I shudder when I think of where that suitcase came from. The life that my husband was spared. Daily, I come face to face with the suitcase in our closet. I'm so thankful to God for my husband, who came to my home town, where he would eventually meet me and share his suitcase, with me. I smile, knowing that he knows, he'll never have to take that suitcase out agian. He's home.
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