|After a bath--August 2010|
She taught me that every person has value, no matter what their physical or intellectual limitations.
Annie could do very little for herself. She couldn't eat, walk, or talk. Her contribution to society--as if a person needs to "do" something in order to have permission to live--seemed to consist of one thing, and that was the daily testing of my character. Well, I guess her other contribution was that she was pretty darn cute.
She taught me to trust God even when the answers to my prayers were "No."
I love to get "yes" answers to my prayers--who doesn't? But often when praying for Annie, the answer was no. Or worse yet, sometimes it seemed like there just was no answer. But most times, even when the answer seemed to be out there floating somewhere, I felt His presence in spite of the incredible challenges of caring for Annie. And many times, I felt God's comfort and strength through the prayers you offered.
She taught my other kids compassion for people with disabilities.
They learned to not be afraid of people with disabilities; that people who have disabilities need love and respect--just like anyone else.
She taught us to treasure each moment with our friends and loved ones.
Because this life is brief, and our little reality can change in an unexpected instant.
She taught us that heaven is closer than you think.
Annie was a little girl who lived such a short time here on earth. However, her life in heaven has just begun, and with each thought of her comes the excitement of seeing her again very soon.
You do not know what will happen tomorrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away. James 4:14