It’s no secret that I love my Lauren Daigle album, Look Up Child. It plays on repeat in my car. Rescue often brings me to tears. You Say was my anthem and reason for purchasing the CD. Rolling Stones is Caleb’s favorite to sing along to. The whole album is great, but the title track isn’t one that initially stood out to me.
A few months ago, I was at the garage sale fundraiser for a friend’s baby girl, Landry. Her family was raising money for her growing medical bills. Shortly after birth, Landry was diagnosed with Alternating Hemiplegia of Childhood or AHC. She deals with dystonia, paralysis and seizure-like episodes which interrupt her development and her mom’s blissful state of raising a new baby. Instead of days filled with new firsts, typical milestones and just soaking up all the new baby goodness, her family is faced with fear of what might trigger another episode. It seems so unfair.
As far as parents go, Landry is blessed with the best. Her mom Katelyn is a pediatric physical therapist who Gage had the pleasure of working with for intensive sessions. By proxy, I got the pleasure of chatting with and getting to know this amazing woman as she worked with my son for hours at a time. Her experience and knowledge as a PT don’t allow her the luxury of living in denial like I did the first year of Gage’s life. But by the grace of God, her faith carries her through. As she wrestles through each struggle, she finds a way to praise him throughout and stay rooted in eternal truth. She writes and shares in a beautifully authentic way. You can follow their family’s journey and see for yourself at forlandry.com or on Facebook and Instagram.
A hug in her driveway was the first encounter I had with Katelyn since Gage’s PT session last winter, and my first chance to meet sweet Landry. We caught up and compared notes on some of our unique parenting struggles like trying to choose the right meds, doctors and treatment. We also spoke openly about anger and jealousy we feel and it was so nice to confide in someone who just gets it.
Katelyn told me she hadn’t cried in weeks, for fear that if she started, she wouldn’t be able to stop. She also shared some advice she’d been given on how to stop crying – look up. I realized she was referring to the physical effects of an upward gaze to help stop the flow of tears. But as I heard the words, I couldn’t help but think of the Lauren Daigle song, Look Up Child. The title track that didn’t seem to make much of an impression on me now wouldn’t leave my brain.
The upbeat vibe of the song itself seems to disguise the anguish within some of the lyrics. Maybe that’s the point? Taking a closer listen and look, I relate to the cries of “where are you?” and the talk of darkness, doubt and suffering. All of that is countered by a reminder to look up. Maybe sometimes that’s all we can do. Our best option is to lift our gaze, shift our focus toward God and rest in the truth that he is in control, even when we can’t understand or don’t like the way things are unfolding.