Good Sunday Morning--
 We met with the Epileptologist this week and came away with heavy hearts.  He helped us understand that Addie is in the category of ⅓ of epilepsy patients that do not respond to medication, not the category of ⅔ who do.  As he came in, I held Addie.  He asked, “So what do her seizures look like?” I said, “Come and see.”  She seized over and over in my arms throughout the hour meeting--about every minute.  After about 15 minutes of talking to us, keeping his eye on her, he said, “She has catastrophic epilepsy.”  He explained that most with epilepsy may have a seizure once a day or week or even once every two or three months, years even,  when controlled by medicine.  Watching Addie and hearing from us, “this is how it usually is . . . unless she’s asleep” brought on the awakening news.  Our hearts plummeted as the weight of what he told us settled like thick dust upon our hopes.  He said that often in cases like hers, the brain will just get to a point where it can’t function anymore--it burns out.
We met with the Epileptologist this week and came away with heavy hearts.  He helped us understand that Addie is in the category of ⅓ of epilepsy patients that do not respond to medication, not the category of ⅔ who do.  As he came in, I held Addie.  He asked, “So what do her seizures look like?” I said, “Come and see.”  She seized over and over in my arms throughout the hour meeting--about every minute.  After about 15 minutes of talking to us, keeping his eye on her, he said, “She has catastrophic epilepsy.”  He explained that most with epilepsy may have a seizure once a day or week or even once every two or three months, years even,  when controlled by medicine.  Watching Addie and hearing from us, “this is how it usually is . . . unless she’s asleep” brought on the awakening news.  Our hearts plummeted as the weight of what he told us settled like thick dust upon our hopes.  He said that often in cases like hers, the brain will just get to a point where it can’t function anymore--it burns out.
With undying hope in Christ,
A delightful  children’s book/game We’re going on a Bear Hunt chants  “ . . . we can’t go over it, we can’t go under it; oh no--we have to go through it.”  From the beginning, we hoped that we could pray ourselves a miracle to heal Addie so she could grow into a normal little girl.   We hoped that the trial would be lifted--that we could go under it or over it.  Now we sing, “Oh No! We have to go through it!” 
Recall that when the prophet Abraham was asked to sacrifice his son Isaac upon an altar, he walked the mountain to get to the peak, he built the altar, laid wood upon it, strapped his son to it, and then raised the knife to perform the sacrifice. In that moment--after he did all he could to obey , “the angel of the Lord called unto him out of heaven, and said, ‘Lay not thine hand upon the lad, neither do thou any thing unto him: for now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only son from me ’” (Genesis 22).  Abraham then looked up and hearing a commotion in the thicket found a ram caught there.  The ram took Isaac’s place upon the altar in deepest gratitude of both father and son.
About three months ago as I drove home from  IMC (Intermountain Medical Center) and after  weeks of bad news ladled upon bad news, “ I cried out, “Father--where is the ram in the thicket?” I  wanted  a ram of deliverance to show up for me and for my little Addie--so that we wouldn’t have to “go through” any more sorrow.  In the very moment of my question, the answer came: “He’s already there. His name is Jesus Christ.” My tears dried up instantly.  I’ve pondered that message over and over as the news has worsened over the months that followed.
We often think of Isaac as a symbol for the Savior, and he is. But, what of the ram?  Isaac was delivered;  the ram was not--The Ram had to “go through it”. The Savior prayed for deliverance too:  “O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt” (Matthew 26:39).  But--there was no ram in the thicket for Him.  He had to “go through it”. He says of the experience: “Which suffering caused myself, even God, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit—and would that I might not drink the bitter cup, and shrink—Nevertheless, glory be to the Father, and I partook and finished my preparations unto the children of men” (D&C 19:18-19).
Sometimes, we just have to go through it! Even so, because of Jesus Christ, all our pain, sorrow, grief, and mourning will end.  Only The Ram in the Thicket truly had to give it all, and that crown of thorns placed upon His head prior to crucifixion surely is the powerful symbol of this truth.  I know that the Lord Jesus Christ has already taken care of Addie, of me, and  each of you.  Below you’ll see through video how He will, at some future day, do for Addie what He’s done for others in the past:  (Click on the Blue for Videos): 
- But she has seizures--that will cripple her and stop her development? Yes, but . . .He heals those with palsy. (Mark 2:1-12).
- But she’s so deaf? She’ll be dumb if she can’t learn language? But He gives hearing to the deaf and speech to the dumb. (Mark 7:37)
- But you still have to suffer with her for her whole life as you watch over her? But . . . He knows how to succor me. (see Alma 7:11-12).
Privileged mother of little Adelaide-Lemonade
