The Flirtation Experiment: Putting Magic, Mystery, and Spark Into Your Everyday MarriageSample

The Hope Experiment

Lisa

Hope is our fifth child’s middle name.

She was born with a severe medical condition, and her life was touch-and-go for those first few heartrending years. The doctors were painfully straightforward with us: “We’re very sorry, but your daughter will never walk, talk, or even know you as her parents . . . if she makes it at all.”

Such an unexpected and devastating prognosis that was for our tiny baby girl. And what could we do but pray, and, in faith, slip Hope into the middle of Avonléa’s name?

Twenty years later and our Avonléa has exceeded every expectation any doctor ever had for her. Although she has limited use of both her legs and left arm, she manages quite well with her one strong right arm. It’s true that she remains childlike, but then she’ll say something so insightful or recount some fact gleaned from a conversation four years previous that it amazes us all!

This dear girl has a gift for making us laugh (and occasionally weep), but she is always, always a joy.

As soon as I received an invitation to the Country Dance, I hoped our family would attend. Who wouldn’t want to “dance the night away” in a lush green field? Waltz out under the stars?

Avonléa squealed at the prospect, but our three teenage sons had a slightly less than enthusiastic response: “Ah, Mom, do we have to go?” “Why are we doing this?” and other similar protests. 

But I thought the evening sounded simply magical. 

In the early days and months of our daughter’s life, no one offered much hope for Avonléa’s life—or for our marriage either, for that matter. 

One day while roaming the hospital halls, the head NICU pediatrician felt compelled to pass on these sobering statistics: “I thought you should know that 85 percent of couples who give birth to a severe special needs child like yours end in divorce.”

Oh . . . thanks. Our baby hadn’t completed her second brain surgery, and there we were, discussing the statistical probability for our divorce.

The doctor’s stark statement filled my head with many anxious thoughts and questions. Would the challenges of this fragile baby tear us apart? The sleepless nights, the hospital stays, the financial strain, the grief—would they be too heavy for us to carry? I wondered, and I deeply worried.

But then my mind went back to the name God had graciously given us for her—that promising Hope—and tearfully considered how much greater He is than any medical or social statistics. I poured out my heart to Him in that moment—and many moments following. You could see the numerous places where my Bible is marked up, highlighted, and cried over:

My hope is in You. 

—Psalm 39:7 NKJV

Hope in the LORD;

For with the LORD there is mercy,

And with Him is abundant redemption.

—Psalm 130:7 NKJV

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing 

that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

—Romans 15:13 NKJV

 Are you clinging to hope? I don’t know the details of your life or your circumstances, my friend, but I do know this: you can trust God with your heart and, yes, with your marriage. Our God is able—more than able—to bring beauty to your situation, whatever that may be and no matter how hopeless it may currently seem (see Isa. 6:13; Eph. 3:20).

Remember, the Flirtation Experiment is all about being a biblical woman and wife; you have so much to contribute to the upward directions of your marriage. So take courage and take actions steps without apology or reserve.

We also know that God’s Word tells us that whatever we do, we are to do it “as to the Lord” (Col. 3:23 NKJV). When you have that perspective, you don’t have to base your feelings on what did—or didn’t—happen in response to your efforts. It’s in God’s hands now.

When we arrived at the dance, the trees were brightly strung with rows of lights, and more rows of lights outlined the dance floor, the rugged Cascade Mountains serving as a stunning backdrop to the entire scene. Families were everywhere, mingling, eating, laughing, and, of course, dancing.

Matt and I spotted a warm seat near the firepit and waited with Avonléa while our boys went in search of dance partners. We didn’t speak to them again for the next two hours—so much for the reluctant dancers! We tapped our feet as they danced the Virginia Reel, the Fairfield Fancy, Chasing the Fox . . .

And then, finally, the waltz.

Up until then I’d been content to observe the line dances, but my real intention was to snag a slow dance with Matt once the waltz music began.

But just as I started to stand, we both looked over to see Avonléa in her wheelchair, happily clapping her right hand against her little, curled left hand. We exchanged glances and, without a word, both knew what would happen next. Matt walked over and slowly rolled her wheelchair across the bumpy grass into the middle of the field and gallantly asked, “May I have this dance?”

She gave a little girl’s giggle, and then he swept her up, holding her tight—her legs dangling down, two feet off the ground—and twirled her around under the night sky.

Although the dance turned out differently than what I first envisioned, clearly, that night was meant for our sweet girl to shine instead. 

And as I watched those two together, I reflected on those early traumatic weeks, months, and years when we had no idea we’d end up here like this—that there would be laughter, joy, and even dancing. For some reason, that doctor didn’t think to mention that our daughter might bring so much delight or that caring for a severe special needs child can also pull people closer together rather than splitting them in two.

Or that God might have beautiful plans for us that defy any grim prognosis or depressing statistics. 

Have you been listening to discouraging voices either in the past or currently spoken around you? Have you believed their dire predictions that “your marriage won’t make it” or “you’ll end in divorce just like the rest of the family,” or something similar? If so, recognize that this is not from the Lord. He can do all things and is not held back by sad statistics, destructive family patterns, or past experiences. Remember: we serve the God of all hope!

Respond

Describe at time in your life when you felt overwhelmed and hopeless.

How did God reveal Himself and His hope to you?

Prayer

Lord, lead me to someone who needs to hear about Your hope.