I remember when the comments first started. They would sting. Walking through the store, I would suddenly be blind-sided by words.
“Look, mommy, that girl has cancer.”
“Look, daddy, that girl doesn’t have hair.”
Sometimes there were no words. Just a darting glance or an uncomfortable parent shushing their child. I pretended not to notice. I learned how to quickly flash a smile to somehow communicate that it was okay. That I was okay with the stares. With the remarks. It was more than this recovering perfectionist wanted to handle.
My daughter’s bare head often draws attention. I have become accustomed to reassuring others that it is not cancer. That it’s only alopecia.
As if that somehow disqualified us from the battle. A battle for which I was ill-equipped. A battle against whom or what, I wasn’t sure. Little did I know, I was about to be forever changed by one familiar story and one precious little girl.
The story was David and Goliath. One I had heard many times before. One whose familiarity put it at risk of losing its’ impact, but it’s hard to ignore something that God keeps putting in your face. This story kept finding its’ way to me – in teachings, on the radio, in conversations.
I wanted to get it…to learn what I was supposed to learn, so I read it over and over and over again, for weeks, each time asking God, “Where am I in this story? Show me what I need to learn.”
At first, I imagined that I was David coming victoriously against the giant, but that seemed too easy; almost juvenile.
Then, I feared that I was Eliab, David’s oldest brother who discouraged David from battling the giant. In the name of being “realistic”, I had become discouraging…
“Don’t you hear what the doctors are saying? They said there’s no cure. They don’t even know what causes it. Why should we expect any different?”
I wanted to accept defeat. My husband wanted to fight — for us, for our daughter, for an answer…for Hope.
Still, I continued asking, “Lord, show me. Where am I in this story?” Then, God gave me understanding. I hadn’t been asking the right question. Instead of being so concerned with who I was in the story, I needed to be asking a very different question. I needed to be asking, “Who are you in this story, God?”
When I started asking the right question, the story came alive…
I saw myself, a soldier on the hillside. Crouched down. Terrified and dismayed. The enemy was across the valley shouting his terrible shouts.
“Why even bother to fight? Did you not hear what the doctors said? There are no answers. There is no cure. There is no hope.”
My thoughts were distorted. My heart was paralyzed. Without realizing it, I had begun believing the lie of the enemy.
I had begun believing in hopelessness.
But God has a way of changing things…
He sent a David to bring Bread to the battle lines — broken to give life for weary souls. Bending down low he saw what my mouth refused to speak, “This is too much. I don’t want to do this. I surrender.”
But God doesn’t leave us on the battle lines to fight alone. He enters the battle with us. No…He enters the battle for us.
With grace and mercy, He spoke the words my heart desperately needed to hear,…
“Do not lose heart. I will fight for you.”
Then, He set off toward the giant. Reaching into the stream he chose five stones. No sword. No armor. Just stones. With stones in his pouch, He stood before the giant who was still shouting, “Come down and fight me. If you win, I will become your subject. But if I win, you will become my subject and serve me.”
Most of us know how the story ends. With one stone, David killed the giant and sent him tumbling to the ground. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, he severed the head of the giant using his own weapon against him making victory a reality.
This battle is one that God has used to teach me much.
My battle was not so much about my daughter’s diagnosis, but more about learning to choose which god I would submit to in the face of my trial—
the god of hopelessness or the God of Hope.
Throughout this journey, one message has echoed loudly…
”Don’t waste your trials.”
When we face a trial, no matter how big or small, we are faced with a choice.
We get to choose whether we will believe God’s promises to work everything together for our good and submit to His work in our lives; or whether we will choose not to believe His promises and not allow Him to work in our lives. If we choose the latter, then we let our trials go to waste.
Trials are a blessing that have the potential to deepen our walk with Him.
Through this experience, God has grown me to truly see His Word as the Bread of Life necessary for the sustenance of my soul. To see His Word as the well from which I draw my hope, strength and peace. My heart reveres Him as Holy and I cherish time spent in His presence.
God has taught me the importance of being honest with Him. When I was trying to pretend like everything was okay, God was instead giving me permission to not be okay. I learned to slow down enough to experience the gravity of what was happening. I had to simply surrender and cry out to Him.
Under the weight of fear and doubt, my words became unintentionally hurtful toward my husband. I learned to pray for my marriage in new ways. Not only for a spirit of unity, but for a hedge of protection around my husband… from me. I began praying that God would give him a wife worth more than rubies (Proverbs 31:10).
God has taught me to trust my husband’s leadership. I learned to respect his opinion even when he disagreed with the doctors. Together we learned that doctors don’t always have all the answers. I had to trust that God was leading him, too.
God has taught me gratitude. He took my grumbling heart and transformed it to see everything as a gift. Now, my heart can recognize even the smallest of gifts…like eyelashes.
God has shown me that He cares intricately for Brianna. When she turned 3, for the first time, she told me she wanted hair on her head. Not ready for this conversation, I gently explained to her that God made her beautiful without hair. But God heard the desire of her heart and a few weeks later I crossed paths with an organization that provides real-hair wigs to children with hair loss. Through them, Brianna received the gift of hair.
We never know how God might choose to answer prayers. It’s not our job to know. All He asks is that we simply trust Him.
We know God has great things planned for Brianna. She has already touched so many lives. Through her, God has deepened my walk with Him, strengthened my marriage, and proven that He is taking care of the details of our lives.
The battle has changed me.
Some might think…, “It’s just hair.” I know. I tried to tell myself that for a year. I felt guilty every time it felt like a big deal. I didn’t understand why it was so hard; why it was such a struggle.
What I’ve learned is that every battle is personal.
I am her mother. It’s my nature to protect her. For me, it’s about protecting my daughter’s heart. It’s about shielding her from the arrows that will surely come when the world starts telling her a different definition of beauty. It’s about helping her find strength, when she starts feeling different.
And now that I’ve been changed by the battle, it’s about sharing with her what I’ve learned. I will share with her a powerful secret…
God gives the biggest battles to His fiercest warriors.
And I will train her for battle and teach her to use the right kind of weapons.
Battles are about accepting every ounce of who God is
in every moment and in every season.
It’s about allowing God to work in every circumstance, the good ones and, especially, the difficult ones.
Whatever you’re facing, right now. No matter how big or small. Find your hope in Christ. Cling to Him. Hold onto His promises. He has equipped you for this battle.
Hopelessness has been defeated.
“The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.”