Imagine this: You are sitting in the waiting room of a hospital, where the only people you know are your siblings and your parents. A door opens, and a nurse and a doctor emerge and begin to walk towards you. They stop right in front of you, and begin to explain the horror that will soon meet your eyes. You try to choke back tears, but they can't be stopped. They begin streaming down your face, because you know that you won't be able to handle what you see when you walk into that room.
You get up, and begin heading to the ICU wing of the hospital, walking arm in arm with your younger siblings as you trot down the bare, sterile hallway. The nurse opens the door and there you see your baby brother, hooked up to what seems like thousands of machines. His breathing is shallow, and his life seems to be fading away. You take a deep breath in, and let out more tears, because you know this is just the beginning.
When I was a little kid, I would constantly tell my parents all the plans I had for my future. I told them I wanted to be married, have kids, and be a lawyer or a doctor. Everyone goes through a phase like this as a little kid. The world is their oyster, and limitations do not exist.
Whenever I told my parents all the miraculous plans I had for my life, they would look me in the eye and tell me that God was laughing at me. This puzzled me at first, so I asked them what they meant. They told me that my life wasn't in my hands, and that God already has a plan set for me that is far greater than anything I could ever imagine.
I first began to understand the true meaning of this in 2008, when God graced my family with the addition of Sean Michael Smith. Our entire family was ecstatic to finally have another kid welcomed to our family. We spent the previous months meticulously preparing for his arrival. We set up the crib, bought toys, food, clothing, and anything else we thought we needed to welcome this new life into the world. Little did we know that he wouldn't be spending a night in his crib for a long time.
The day after my brother was born, doctors noticed some abnormalities, and through testing, they discovered Sean had a condition known as DiGeorge Syndrome. This disease, something that we didn't even know existed, was about to become a huge part of our lives. After the diagnosis, my brother was life-flighted to Children's Hospital in Omaha, where he would endure three surgeries, many brushes with death, and endless amounts of pain.
By the grace of God, Sean was able to push through the difficulties of his disease. It has taught me and my family that our lives are not our choice. Sometimes life throws us a curveball and we are left with the choice of whether were going to let it strike us out, or if we are going to hit it out of the park.
Think of your trauma's in life as a teacher. For me, it taught me compassion, understanding, and the meaning of the word family. I couldn't imagine my life without my little brother.
Are there days where I wish he didn't have to suffer? Well, yes, but would I change it after the fact? Absolutely not. I couldn't imagine what my life would be like if I hadn't endured this difficult trial. That's the funny thing about our difficulties in this life. They always have a purpose, and most of the time some good comes out it.
So, what was the biggest take away I had from all of this? If you want to make God laugh, tell Him the plans you have for your life.
