When we give

Well, I've been out of the blogging world except for our monthly letters to Dani just because there really hasn't been time. I definitely have "would be blogs" go through my head often on my drives between different campuses and on errands here and there, but I've been trying to use the time I have at home to just enjoy my family rather than blog about them.

What's different about today? Well, I am finally on the long-awaited spring break and Dani has fallen asleep on my lap.

So, some things that have been on my mind:

My mother-in-law does not drive and does not speak English and between appointments for her and her daughter in the last week (not to mention appointments for my own family) I have felt at times that I would never leave the doctor's office. I have even found myself resenting having to use "my hard-earned spring break" towing Dani around to a bunch of appointments or asking my mom to take care of her rather than playing with her at home. Yet, I am also always humbled when these resentful thoughts jump into my head because I really have absolutely no right to be resentful. I am so blessed and so fortunate in so many ways. Why is it so hard for me to give back, even in small ways, sometimes?

I've been thinking a lot about my mother in law and her daughter Jasmine, who is 12 years old and has had cerebral palsey since her first year of life. Jasmine cannot speak, cannot hug her mother, cannot even give her a smile in thanks for all the days that my mother in law has cared for her. Amalia, my mother in law, hardly leaves the house so she can be home for all of Jasmine's 4 feedings a day every 4 hours 8:00am, noon, 4:00pm and 8:00pm. Jasmine now weighs more than 80 pounds and my mother in law has to move her from her bed to her wheelchair to the seat in the bathtub to bathe her, all by herself. Amalia got rid of her own bed to make room for a twin sized hospital bed for Jasmine. My 50 year old mother in law now sleeps on the floor.

I have struggled to find God's design in this whole situation. Sometimes I want to ask him, "when is it enough?" just like the disciples did... How much do you want this poor woman to give with nothing in return. I remember Mother Teresa's words, "When you love until it hurts, there is no more hurt, only love." Is it true? Even I, who am only involved in the perimeter, am exhausted sometimes by the need in Juan Carlos's family. I think of people who go looking for others to help and how often I am overwhelmed by how much people so close to us need so much help. And I feel like I'll never catch up with it all.

I tell Juan Carlos I can relate to the story about the starfish: There was a woman on the beach throwing starfish who had washed onto the shore back into the sea so they could survive. And someone came along and said, "What are you doing? Can't you see that there are hundreds of starfish along this beach. You could never throw them back. It will never make a difference. And the woman picked up another starfish and through it back into the ocean and said, "It made a difference for that one." I just wish I could have that kind of faith sometimes. I get overwhelmed looking down the beach and I do wonder if I can ever make a dent.

I have wondered sometimes what God's purpose is for Jasmine- how does God use a little girl who can't move, can't speak, can't even smile? And I look at myself- at my lack of strength, of patience... at how easy I get weary, how easily I want to give up. I look at my own little girl and think about how, whenever I get tired, she'll flash me a smile or laugh or give us kisses and hugs and how rewarding it is and how Amalia never has that. It just doesn't seem fair.

It's not fair that some lessons come so hard. I remember a good friend telling me when we lost our first baby not to let this "opportunity" go because it could make me a saint. I'm reminded of those words with Amalia. I certainly did nothing "saintly" in those hellish months following my great loss. But she is strong. And maybe God has given her a great opportunity to learn intimately what Mother Teresa meant when she said what she did- to continue loving, without reward, until love is all she knows.

And, as for Jasmine's purpose, perhaps she, without speaking or moving or even smiling, can bring those who know her closer to God, closer to love, than those of us who speak can with words or those of us who move can with action. Perhaps God gave Jasmine to Amalia, and to me, to show us that love, real love is not dependent on the other person loving you back (for God loves those who never acknowledge him) and the time we feel we are "losing" in doctor's appointments, endless feedings, physical strain may in fact be the best spent time we ever have if we spend it in love.