The Doc File

The online journal of Luke Dockery

Category: Kinsley (page 1 of 3)

Honest Thoughts from a Hospital Room

I am writing from my daughter’s room at Arkansas Children’s Hospital, following her successful VNS surgery this morning. It is well after midnight; Caroline is asleep, and Kinsley is trying to be. It is an excellent time for reflection.

I am not writing the following to elicit sympathy from those who read it, nor am I seeking “cheering up”. I don’t want to come across as whiny or depressing; rather, I write in the hope that my (honest) ramblings may provide some encouragement to others.


Over the last few years, our ongoing struggles with Kinsley—learning about her brain abnormalities, receiving a diagnosis, traveling extensively to see specialists, attempting to manage her seizures, dealing with her daily special needs—have led to countless people telling us something to the effect of, “You guys are such amazing parents,” or “Your faith is such a great example to us.”

Those are kind words with kind intentions behind them, but sometimes they can be frustrating as well. You see, we didn’t ask to have the opportunity to be such wonderful parents, or to have the platform to wrestle with our faith in such a way that we can be good examples for others. And furthermore, to be frank, sometimes we really don’t feel like wonderful parents or great examples at all. We feel that we do no more than anyone else would in our shoes, we feel helpless—completely unable to do anything to help our little girl, and we feel so very, very tired—tired of seizures, tired of doctor appointments, and tired of our sweet princess having to deal with more than she should ever have to.

And yet…if God can somehow use our helpless and tired efforts to bring encouragement to someone else or to shine a ray of light into a dark world…praise the Lord. Truly, what wondrous things He accomplishes through human weakness.

What a blessing!


Although I do not find myself particularly inclined to do so, it sometimes can be tempting for those in full-time ministry to look down upon those who engage in “secular” work (you may even hear that terminology from time to time).

Over the last few years, as we have been on the receiving end of such amazing care from so many therapists (basically our favorite people ever), nurses, doctors, teachers, aides, etc., it has deeply reinforced in my own mind how sacred it is to use your vocation as a means of blessing others. God’s work is done in all sorts of places, and I am deeply grateful for those who have so clearly shown me that as we have traveled this journey.

What a blessing!


Throughout this process, there are times when I feel that I am at my wit’s end. Completely overwhelmed. Barely able to keep my head above water. Emotionally stressed. Spiritually fatigued. Physically exhausted.

Increasingly, I have come to suspect that we are sustained by prayer. Certainly our own prayers, but, in light of the spiritual fatigue I mentioned above, my prayers are not exactly great right now—they consist of a lot of sighs and pleadings and persistence and “groanings too deep for words”.

No, I believe that we are especially sustained by the prayers of others. From the beginning, it has been overwhelming to me the way that others have responded to our situation. It is beyond humbling to know that people from all over the world, including many we don’t even personally know, are praying for us. More than that, more people than I can count have told me that they pray for Kinsley and our family every day. How can I even respond to that? What a gift that is!

I am so deeply, deeply grateful. And beyond the prayers—every single kindness means so much: the kind words and messages we receive, the concerned questions people ask, the social media well-wishings, the silent hugs, the money for travel expenses slipped into a handshake—all of it. People extend us so much love so frequently, that it is all I can do to refrain from constantly bursting into tears (because that would be awkward, right?).

But those are healing tears—tears belonging to a Kingdom that seeks to restore the goodness of a broken world.

What a blessing!

Sacred Moments, Holy Ground

In Exodus 3 we encounter the famous story of God appearing to Moses for the purpose of recruiting him to liberate the people of Israel from slavery in Egypt. One of the most interesting aspects of the story is the way that God appears to Moses: in the form of a fiery bush that is not consumed by the flames that engulf it. As Moses draws near, God tells him to remove his sandals, because he is standing on holy ground. What made the ground holy? It was not that there was something inherently special about the bush. As a shepherd, Moses spent a lot of time leading his flock in the wilderness, and I think it’s possible that he had been by this same spot before, and had maybe even seen the same bush.

There was nothing particularly holy about it at those other times, but it was different now: it was a sacred moment…it was holy ground.

God’s presence made it that way.

We have had a rough time at our house for the last several weeks. Over the last several months, Kinsley’s seizures have gotten more difficult to control, which has led us to trying additional seizure medications and a special diet (you can read more about Kinsley’s story here and here). These efforts have not led to long-term improvement, and at the same time, Kinsley has been more withdrawn: she is often lethargic, sleeps a lot, and plays and interacts with us less. It is difficult to discern if this is caused by the many medications she is on, her seizures, some other factor, or some combination of all of the above.

Even more recently, Kinsley, who has always been a champ at taking her medicine, has become very stubborn about doing so: she will hold it in her mouth for a long time, sometimes eventually swallowing it, and at other times spitting it out. Obviously she does not get any benefit from seizure medicine that she refuses to take, so this aggravates the problem.

Last night as I was getting her ready for bed, I broke down. Kinsley again spit out one of her doses and I got incredibly frustrated and spoke to her in an exasperated tone. She just looked at me, with her beautiful, innocent, loving eyes. Immediately, my emotions changed, and I told her how truly and deeply sorry I was that she has to deal with all of the stuff and difficulties that she does, more than any little girl should ever have to.

And my nonverbal little princess, who has hardly communicated at all over the last several days, looked at me, put her hand on my chest, laid her head against me to snuggle, and reached out and held onto my arm.

What a powerful message she communicated! Even now, I can hardly write about it without becoming overwhelmed by emotion.

There we were, sitting on the floor by her bed, a place I have been countless times. But it was different now: it was a sacred moment…it was holy ground.

God’s presence made it that way: in His grace, God reached out to me and used my infirmed daughter as an instrument of healing.

P.S. We are going to Arkansas Children’s Hospital in Little Rock tomorrow to consult with a neurosurgeon about a procedure that could potentially help with Kinsley’s seizures. We would greatly appreciate your prayers as we continue to look for ways to help our little girl.

Moral Evil and Natural Evil

Theological SufferingIn this series, I am attempting to approach the topic of suffering from a variety of different angles. As I mentioned in the first post, I am using the term “suffering” to sum up the famous Problem of Evil. I talk about the Problem of Evil at length in this post on Alexander Campbell, but perhaps it would be beneficial to state the problem outright, the original statement of which is generally credited to Epicurus:

“Is God willing to prevent evil, but not able? Then He is not omnipotent. Is He able, but not willing? Then He is malevolent. Is He both able and willing? Then whence cometh evil? Is He neither able nor willing? Then why call Him God?”

So basically the issue is, if God is good and powerful, why does He allow evil and suffering to exist in the world?

Now, it’s a fair question to ask if all suffering is evil or the result of evil. As humans we admittedly have very limited perspectives, and sometimes things which are good for us certainly don’t seem good at the time they occur (think about an infant getting a vaccine, for example). Regardless, evil certainly exists in the world, and a lot of suffering occurs because of it.

Philosophers and theologians and people who discuss this topic will often distinguish between two kinds of evil: moral evil and natural evil.

Moral Evil

Generally speaking, moral evil refers to the evil acts that people choose to commit. A lot of the suffering which occurs in the world happens because people choose to do things which cause harm to one another. Fatal car accidents caused by alcohol consumption, child molestation, ISIS beheadings, and the Holocaust are all examples of moral evil. People do foolish and terrible things which cause a great deal of suffering for others.

Really, this type of evil is easier to explain, at least, if you have a robust view of human free will. As I discussed a little in this post, I think a theology which embraces the idea that God created humans with free will is important and makes the most sense of the teachings of Scripture. The basic idea is that God created people out of His love and desires that we love Him in return. Certainly God could have created us like robots who had no choice but to “love” Him, but a coerced feeling like that wouldn’t really be love at all. To enable us to choose to love Him, God also gives us the ability to reject Him, and when we abuse our freedom of will, all sorts of bad things can happen.

When it comes to moral evil, you can blame God for the way He made the world (though, based on the previous paragraph, what other options were available?), but really, the blame lies with people who make bad or evil choices.

Natural Evil

Natural evil generally refers to those “random” things which occur, not because of the actions of people, but as a result of the world “naturally” operates (I put those two words in quotations because they are loaded with some major assumptions). Hurricanes, tsunamis, tornadoes, genetic conditions and human decay and death in general are examples of natural evil.

Now, human choices can still exacerbate natural evils and make the suffering greater than it would be otherwise (certain behaviors can make illness more likely, social problems like poverty can increase the amount of suffering which comes from natural disasters, etc.), but for the most part, people have no control over natural evil—we suffer simply because we live in a world where these types of things occur.

Because of this, I think natural evil is a little harder to explain away. We can understand when negative things happen to people who deserve them, and we can understand, as horrible as it is, when people suffer because other people choose to do evil. But why do we live in a world where natural disasters kill so many unsuspecting people? Why do children get cancer and die? Did God design the world this way, and if so, why? If God didn’t design the world this way, what happened to it for everything to get so messed up?

In the next post, I’ll try to take a closer look at natural evil, and specifically, the idea of chaos: the element of randomness in life which we can’t control which has potential for unleashing great suffering. For me, as the parent of a little girl with a genetic condition, this is one of the really tough areas of examining suffering theologically.

A Theological View of Suffering

Theological SufferingThe topic of suffering (and I use the word “suffering” as a shorthand for the well-known “problem of evil” as well as the existence of undeserved pain and suffering in the world) is one I think about a lot.

Though certainly not a new issue, it is one which I hadn’t thought about or studied much until it touched me personally. Which perhaps is a little selfish, but I guess also is human nature. I’ve written before about struggling with the grief of miscarriage, as well as the heartbreak of my daughter Kinsley being diagnosed with a devastating genetic condition.

In addition to these personal concerns, I also took a class on Providence and Suffering last fall, and as I did a lot of reading on the subject and reflected on those readings, some of my thoughts were further developed and refined.

So what I would like to do intermittently over the next several weeks and months (I’ll be posting other stuff too, unrelated to this topic) is to share some of those thoughts. It will in no way be a systematic coverage of suffering, but it will be a reflection of my efforts to work through some of the difficult questions surrounding this issue (How can a loving God allow pain and suffering? Why do tornados and tsunamis kill innocent people? What is God’s response to the pain and suffering which is present in the world?). I do not claim to have definitive answers to these questions, but I do want to share some ideas and resources which have been helpful to me and have aided my understanding to this point.

I’ll use the end of this post as a Table of Contents for the series:

Suffering and God’s Knowledge of the Future

Alexander Campbell and the Problem of Evil

Moral Evil and Natural Evil

Creation, Chaos, and Suffering

The Suffering Heart

Hurting With God: Faith and Lament, Part 1

Hurting With God: Faith and Lament, Part 2

A Faith for the Storm, Or, My (Current) Favorite Bible Verses

A Faith for the Storm

So there’s one of those chain things going around on Facebook right now where you post your favorite Bible verse(s) and then tag others to get them to do the same. I got tagged by someone the other day, but since I’m not generally a fan of such things I decided to refrain. Then, upon further reflection, I decided that this would be a worthwhile thing to do, but that I would blog about it instead of posting to Facebook. This allows me a little more space for commentary, and also frees me from having to tag other people.

At one point in my life, my favorite verses likely would have been some of the same as the ones I have seen repeated so often:

“I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength…”

“And we know that God causes all things to work together for good…”

“No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability…”

Those are wonderful verses, and I still take comfort from them (though, in context, I don’t necessarily think they mean what a lot of people take them to mean).

But in this current season of my life, those aren’t my favorite verses. Verses about me overcoming all obstacles, conquering all challenges, and everything working out are not what seem most relevant to me right now.

Instead, my favorite verses are these:

“Go, gather together all the Jews who are in Susa, and fast for me. Do not eat or drink for three days, night or day. I and my attendants will fast as you do. When this is done, I will go to the king, even though it is against the law. And if I perish, I perish.”

(Esther 4.16)

“Though He slay me, I will hope in Him…”

(Job 13.15)

“If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the furnace of blazing fire; and He will deliver us out of your hand, O king. But even if He does not, let it be known to you, O king, that we are not going to serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up.”

(Daniel 3.17-18)

Some brief context:

The first verse is a quotation from Queen Esther. She has determined that she will use her position as queen in an attempt to save her people, but she realizes that she could very likely be put to death for doing so. And she does it anyway: if I perish, I perish.

The second verse is a quotation from Job. Job has lost all that he has: his children have been killed, his possessions are gone, he has lost his health, and even his wife has become a hindrance rather than an aid. For Job (who doesn’t know what is going on behind the scenes), it seems very possible that God will take his life too. But even so, Job trusts in God: though He slay me, I will hope in Him.

The third passage is a quotation from Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, after they have disobeyed King Nebuchadnezzar’s command to fall down and worship a golden statue. Nebuchadnezzar threatens to have executed in a fiery furnace, but they stick to their guns. They hope that God will save them, but even if He does not, they are determined to honor Him.

It’s verses such as these that resonate deeply within me at this point in my life. To be honest, I don’t feel much like a conquering hero who has everything figured out and is eagerly anticipating his impending victories. I feel more like a worn-out soldier headed into what seems like a hopeless battle, but determined to go forward in service to my King.*

These are verses which exhibit a defiant faith, and that’s where I am at this point. And really, I’m okay with that. In different ways and to different degrees, we all experience the storms of life, and we need to have a faith that is equipped to survive those storms. For me, it’s a more mature version of my faith, a version which has been tempered by the realities of living in a broken world, and which is not (as) contingent upon external circumstances.

*To be sure, I know that it is not a hopeless battle; but this is a true reflection of the way I currently feel. Our feelings frequently deceive us.

Image Credit: Bob Gonzalez
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