And I know that whatever God does is final. Nothing can be added to it or taken from it. Ecclesiastes 3:14

My “normal” is not your “normal.” In fact, I would go so far as to say that there is no such thing. Everyone with a pulse—so that includes every human being and every creature in the animal kingdom—has been given “something.” We all have our trials, our burdens, and our time in the desert.

I have seen the burden God has placed on us all. (Ecclesiastes 3:10).

We all are forced to wait at some point and we are all put in uncomfortable circumstances. No one is exempt. These are the inevitable facts of life.

But there are those few, let’s call them “chosen ones,” who seem to be given more than their fair share. Those are the people you read about on social media who have suffered tremendous amounts of pain and have endured more than enough strife for two lifetimes. For these people, it seems that they can’t catch a break.  It almost seems unfair. We read their stories and shake our heads in disbelief and maybe we say a prayer, but then we go back to our “normal” problems and think to ourselves, “My life isn’t so bad.”

I used to not identify with people like this; I used to hear their stories and have pity on them. I was in a lot of denial then. I’m not anymore.  Maybe it was a matter of acceptance, an unwillingness to see myself as a spectacle to others.  But the truth is, my family, my husband and our children, and even my extended family, our story is a spectacle. It is one of those things you hear about, and it makes you thankful for your own problems.

If you are just catching up to our story, you can visit my daughter’s FB page fightlikelivvy. But to make a long story short: I was sexually abused by my father and aunt during my childhood; my parents divorced well into my adulthood; my second daughter was born with a severe heart defect, had 5 open heart surgeries before age 3, the last one being a lifesaving heart transplant. My mother remarried a wonderful man, but he passed away after only 3 years of marriage from colon cancer. The same week we lost him my daughter with the heart transplant was diagnosed with lymphoma. We briefly lived in a place that couldn’t take care of her medically so we were forced to separate the family so our daughter could receive proper care (hubby is military). Oh, and we are expecting our 4^th child in October! This is only the big major stuff without the details. There is so much more!

The truth has been scary to me and to my husband and extremely hard to accept, but we have had to come to terms with the truth about our Olivia; she is a very sick child. She always has been and she will always have to fight for her life here on earth. We have had to accept that God is the one who made her this way, not because He is a vengeful, vindictive God, but because He is, in fact, a merciful God.

The hardest thing that we have had to surrender to is the fact that we, my husband and I, will most likely bury our child. We don’t know if that is a year from now or twenty years, but we have had to be honest with ourselves for Olivia’s sake, that this is a likely possibility for her future.

Our “normal” is not your “normal.”  We have to have on-going conversations with Olivia and our oldest daughter Natalie about mortality, not only to prepare ourselves but, more importantly, to prepare Olivia. She is the one going through this. Death is not something to be ashamed of or something to deny. We believe in God’s power. We have seen it too many times not to believe it and trust it. But that doesn’t mean we are to be blind to the realities of her life.

Olivia needs an environment in which she can freely express her fears and emotions during her journey. She doesn’t need her parents and siblings limiting her experience because of our fears. It’s ultimately her journey and we are given the privilege to walk alongside her and help prepare her for her eternity. As parents, that is our job; we are supposed to be raising our children with the kingdom in mind, but for our family, our eternity isn’t a thing for the far-fetched future.

Now, don’t get me wrong. We don’t walk around talking about death all day every day, but it is a part of our weekly, nonchalant conversations, along with sexual purity, drug addiction and Christian world views. We are just in the position in which we have to have the conversations that no parents want to have: helping our children understand and cope with dying and leaving this earth to a place that we don’t really know much about.

He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end. (Ecclesiastes 3:11).

The Scriptures are rich, full of beautiful imagery of our destiny. We are excited and giddy when we speak of these things, but it is still scary.  Let’s face it, everyone will die, no one is exempt from it. There is a time to be born and a time to die. (Ecclesiastes 3:2).

We are all going to die. My children will die, my mother and husband, and I myself, will all die. Olivia is going to die. But I always tell her it won’t be a second before or a second after God has planned to take her home.  Our “normal” is not your “normal.” I hope that because of our story you look at your own lives with a greater appreciation and gratitude. Life is a gift!

And people should eat and drink and enjoy the fruits of their labor, for these are gifts from God. (Ecclesiastes 3:13).

Life truly is not ours. It is solely God’s business, His authority, to decide what to do with it. Please don’t feel sorry for us—we don’t—but be thankful and joyful for not having our “normal!”