Five years ago, I shared a story here about The God of the Big Picture; this morning, I read the sequel and felt my whole world shift to size.
If you want to hear the whole story, send me an email at christopherbethany@juno.com and I will forward it to you but here is the story in a nutshell...
After the failed brain surgery five years ago, Tarica's seizures eventually returned. They have intensified but been somewhat manageable with medication. The first part of this month, the seizures became alarmingly frequent and Tarica was hospitalized. Several measures were tried to regulate/ control the seizing and nothing seemed to help. Finally, their only options became a breathing tube and sedation or a plan for brain surgery. They have opted for a second attempt at surgery but there is a two month wait until the surgery's date. At the moment, they are looking at the possibility of two months of hourly seizures.
Stephanie writes, "On the last Sunday of 2019, I sat in a church not my own and listened to a preacher I had not heard before. But God found me there, a stranger in a strange land, and gave me the nearest thing to a vision I’ve ever had. He knew I would need it.
The preacher said—in my own words—that prayer is an essential work of the church even the least of us can do. He moved on to another point, but I didn’t go with him. Instead, I saw—as clearly as if I were standing beside it—an enormous mountain made of Bible-sized stones. Beside the mountain was a pile of dirt, maybe the size of a garden shed owned by a disinterested gardener. People carrying more stones kept walking up to the mountain and adding their stones to it. With each new stone, the mountain grew a little taller.
I knew instantly that pile of dirt was epilepsy and the mountain was prayer. Each time someone prayed, be it me or Linford or anyone else, the mountain grew higher and the dirt pile grew comparatively smaller.
Not that the dirt ever disappeared. Not that it ever turned into gold. There was no analogy here about dirt becoming a rich bed where flowers bloomed. Nothing would make the dirt pile beautiful.
But prayer can be taller and wider and deeper than epilepsy."
I cannot even begin to imagine being the mother in this kind of scenario. My mind rebels at the ongoing heartache of this kind of story; I cannot help but ask the many whys, including 'Why not me?' I do not know the answers.
I do know that God is still the God of the Big Picture. And, while I can't do one thing to change the heartbreaking stories around me, I can add to the mountain of prayer. If we join hands together, perhaps our prayers combined can surround the Leinbach family with the strength they need for this journey.
"This week, we have been well-prayed for. Our mountain towers over us, and from it flows living water. But it also looks like our dirt pile has grown. I do not know how we are going to live like this, nearly every waking hour marked by a seizure. I come begging: Will you pray for us? Please help us build this mountain up to heaven, to touch the heart of God." ~Stephanie
Will you join me?
