full circle grace
I think it’s funny – and by funny, I mean fluky, strange, unforeseen, somewhat eff’d up – when circumstances find you at a place that you’ve driven by or been to before, not knowing that life would necessitate your occupancy of said place for the first time or, I do daresay, the 2nd or 9th. Case in point, I wrote the majority of this post today while in the waiting room of Miller Children’s and Women’s Hospital, as Daniel had hernia repair surgery today. When he, Michael, and I met with the surgeon last February, we had no idea that just a few months later, Michael - at the end of his life - would be on the 7th floor of the building right next to where we were this afternoon. And even though this procedure was needed and relatively routine, I’ve dreaded this day for weeks, knowing that I’d be driving into the same parking lot, wearing yet another visitor sticker on my sweatshirt, drinking another cup of coffee…trusting God with another piece of my heart…my son.
As can happen with surgery, it began over an hour later than it was supposed to which lead to a longer pre-op waiting time and Daniel, an adult now in the eyes of hospital protocol, electing to wait without me. Sad mama heart notwithstanding, what could I do? One must put on a brave face and let them decide, right? He had me ushered in right before being taken into the OR so that we could hug each other and I could place several kisses on his cheek and pray for him and tell him how much I loved him without him seeing the tears in my eyes. He apologized for not letting me wait with him; his thought being that he was protecting my heart by not having me beside him. Oh, my HEART!!! When the surgery was over, he was taken (awake) into recovery…praising God and asking the staff if they were believers; his drug-loosened tongue the vehicle which delivered the words he often speaks of but doesn’t deliver as boldly as he did today.
Oh, my HEART!!!
I wish I could fully express to you how faithful the Lord has been over the last six months. Admittedly, He’s been faithful throughout my life since the day I was born and, despite the various traumas, trials, and tragedies I’ve experienced, I can clearly see and continue to feel His steadfast devotion in every way. Not only have our current, physical needs been met (food, lights on, roof over our heads), He’s given me a strength and peace that allow me to get out of bed each morning and look to Him fully for my daily bread. He’s also provided me with the most amazing group of women in my life (some I’ve known for over 20 years and some just for a few weeks) who love on me through prayer, phone calls and text messages, coffee dates, financial help, early morning beach walks, hugs, a new duvet, an open home, and even our pastor’s wife (who happens to work in the NICU in the building we were in today) who I met for the first time this past Sunday, stopped by today to talk with and pray for me and Daniel. I’m tellin’ you!!! Surrounded by so.much.love.
I will exalt You, my God the King; I will praise Your name for ever and ever. Every day I will praise You and extol Your name for ever and ever. Great is the Lord and most worthy of praise; His greatness no one can fathom. One generation commends Your works to another; they tell of Your mighty acts. They speak of the glorious splendor of Your majesty - and I will meditate on Your wonderful works. They tell of the power of Your awesome works and I will proclaim Your great deeds. They celebrate Your abundant goodness and joyfully sing of Your righteousness. Psalm 145:1-7
It took a bit of time, but we finally made it home and, with Jack’s help, got Daniel upstairs and into bed with a heating pad, a handful of ginger chews, a full flask of iced water by his side, and a pot of vegetable soup simmering on the stove for when he feels like eating. Of course, I’ll barely sleep tonight, my ears open to every sound and movement coming from his room next to mine. Just like when our babies were little and we listened for every breath and held them close with every cry.
When we took the elevator down to the waiting area today, Daniel turned to me and said, “I didn’t realize how hard it was going to be, being back here,” and then he hugged me. Of course, he meant being back at the hospital where, barely three months ago, he said goodbye to his dad for the last time. And it was hard. I felt it too, most specifically when I stepped outside to grab a coffee from the little kiosk and looked over at the outdoor umbrella-covered tables that our children and I gathered around when we were there in July…talking, crying, eating, laughing, making medical decisions for Michael as one. But, when I took a moment, when I looked toward the same place where loss broke my heart, I found God close at hand - steady, gentle, and faithful. Today was about getting Daniel the care he needed, and also about returning to painful places and discovering His peace in the waiting, His presence in the remembering, and His love in every ache of my mother’s heart. Praise be to God!
