At Conners one year check up after being diagnosed with Transverse Myelitis, his Neurologist told us that he would not continue to improve. He said that Conner had recovered all that he would. I looked at the Neurologist and in the kindest voice I could muster after hearing those words, I told him he was wrong, that our God would continue to heal him, and that he didn't know how determined Conner was.
When we walked out of his office, I reminded Conner not to listen to those words because they weren't true, and that he obviously did not know our God. Conner agreed, and kept his determination. There were mornings I would wake up at 6:30 a.m., and Conner would already be lifting weights and exercising.
Two and a half years later, Conner is still improving. When I see a picture of Conner holding a trophy, I don't feel pride. I feel the deepest gratitude. Gratitude that my son can move his arms, run with his legs, and have the strength to hold a bat. Gratitude that he is not in a wheelchair. Gratitude that his nerve endings communicate with his extremities so that he can walk and run.
I see a little boy, being a little boy. That is something I will never take for granted.
"The Lord is my strength and my shield; My heart trusts him, and I am helped."
