XXYY Sneak Peak

John took a plane home. Ryan's in a car with my parents on a straight shot back to Kansas City as we speak. And I'm about to take a nap. It was a LONG weekend at the XXYY symposium. Annie and I have stuck here in Denver another day to bum around. And that's just what I'm doing. Bumming. Because this weekend really took it out of me. It was exhausting. It was frustrating. It was encouraging and discouraging in the same breath. Heart breaking, angering, saddening and hopeful. I want to write about it - what I learned, how I felt, what it meant to me and our family. But it's almost just too much today. I feel like I need a good minute to process. 

In the meantime here are the only few pictures I took on my iPhone. More to come eventually with my camera. 

Here's Ryan with my husband John. 

About five minutes before I snapped this picture, John told me he was having a rough time. Everyone in our family seems to have had their breakdown with Ryan's diagnosis and what it means for his and our lives. It's an intensely devastating moment of hopelessness and helplessness. A moment where you want to give up. Finally and forever. I'm sure my parents had theirs years ago. I had mine a few months ago. And John was on the verge of his that afternoon. We'd escaped the symposium for lunch in an attempt to redirect a meltdown Ryan had had that morning. He and Ryan were in a hat shop in Estes Park laughing, joking around with fedoras. And when Ryan stepped away, John looked at me and seemingly out of the blue said he felt beyond frustrated; he was ready to fold his hand. I asked if he wanted to go back to Denver early and he shook his head. 

And then the Holy Spirit swept in as it has a way of doing in those low lows when you really need it. And within minutes, John had made it to the other side. He still had love to give to Ryan when he had just seconds ago believed he was empty. 

Anyone can slap on a smile for a picture. That's not what this was. This was a renewal.

"Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, and he saved them from their distress. He brought them out of darkness and the deepest gloom..." Psalm 107:13


It's in our deepest brokenness that we have the opportunity to most rely on God. And it's in our deepest brokenness that He has the opportunity to most redeem us, renew us and revive us. 


"The Lord is gracious and righteous; 
our God is full of compassion.
When I was in great need, he saved me.
Be at rest once more, O my soul,
for the Lord has been good to you." Psalm 116:6-7


So that picture of John and Ryan may look simple - a quick photograph of two guys smiling. But it's more than a little complex. It's an image of God's grace.


In the same way, this next picture is more profound than anyone reading will understand. And in a few days maybe I'll try to explain more about why. But for now just know that Ryan is standing next to two 8 year old twins plagued also with XXYY, being raised by a mother who is the definition of strength, patience and courage.

These boys have a long road ahead of them. And I can already see the bumps. They're tire flattening bumps. But their mom is a saint. I'm going to be praying for their family like I really have never prayed for any other. 

"The Lord's right has hand has done mighty things!" (Ps. 118:16) Let me dwell on that tonight.