Singing with tears & pleading in the dark.

A little girl at school has been in a terrible car accident. Her family’s car was hit by a semitrailer as they were driving a few weeks ago. Until now I have had no words to write about it. 

Little Lidia is a beautiful girl! Her and her twin brother were in Kindergarten with my eldest son. These three played together almost everyday despite the language differences. Lidia and her brother repeated at the end of the school year by way of enabling them to develop greater fluency in English. My Dear Siah was pretty sad to go on to Year One without them. He is now in Year 4 and they are in Year 3. 

The car accident occurred in the recent holidays. While the family all sustained minor injuries, Lidia has suffered a great amount of brain damage. We’re all shaken. Her family is devastated. Yet through it they have had so much unwavering faith, strength, hope and reliance on God. They have prayed, we have all prayed for Lidia. We have begged God desperately to heal her, to restore her fully, to return her to her family, to us and to school. We hope and pray for a miracle. We ask that the God of life will give life back to this little girl and be glorified. We hope. 

It’s really hard. I have cried so much, begged and pleaded and simply cannot understand why God would not heal her. He can do it. Anytime He likes. Now….or now…He can. I know it. But as days turn into weeks and Lidia shows only the barest signs of life, we wonder, what is God doing? As people pray and talk about God bringing good out of this my heart cries “Where? Where’s the good?” I can’t see it. 

My little Mmoo (7yrs) prayed for Lidia and said, “God we thank you that if Lidia comes back to school we will be happy and we thank you that if Lidia goes to heaven her family will be happy that she is with you. But we thank you because we will be happy if she comes back to school” and I thought…perhaps either way is good. Terribly devastatingly painfully good. And though the darkness closes in I try to sing through the tears…

But it’s hard. He gives and takes away…and it’s so hard when it’s a child.

So still we pray and plead and beg in what feels like a great darkness and I know my heart refuses to believe how serious Lidia’s condition is…maybe it’s hope…She could still be healed. She could. 

I wish it was still Rebecca‘s month of petitionary prayer so I could say, “Pray with us!” I’ll say it anyway and I think I’ll call it ‘missm’s call to desperate impassioned prayer’. Will you join us?