The Beautiful Pain

Watching Bane produce something like the following passage is about as expected... Well, just read it.

John merely watches. He is mostly watching and trying to smile with his new face, which pains him as the new mouth bolts drag on the inside of his lips, a situation which we hope to rectify Monday. John is not terribly crafty, seeing as how God chose to, at least temporarily, deny him serviceable fingers. I...we, make him fend for himself as best he can, and it tortures me to watch him work so hard at a button, or a zipper, or hold a crayon.

He sometimes holds his little hands out and just looks at them. Quizically. I take his hands and kiss them and never let him hide them. I love it when he holds my face in those scarred, broken hands, or claps them enthusiastically to one of his favorite Jesus songs. He's a good, nay, a great clapper. He can give a clap offering like nobody's business.

It is hard, though, when someone has the courage to ask him how old he is, and he gamely tries to show them seven fingers, and the last three won't bend out of the way.

So far, 2005 has been a demonstration (to me, at least) of how God redeems people through their pain and frustrations. I've never met Bane, or his son, but reading about this little miracle child, and the way he fights against his body to overcome the challenges and temptations that God allows him gives me a strength that's difficult to describe, and that's exactly what I need these days.