There is a tension point in my heart this morning. I feel the need to write because I know so many of you are following our journey and expecting updates. I also feel the need to write because it helps me process so many of the thoughts and feelings that we are experiencing. But I’m also strongly against making this about us or somehow keeping my family or myself in the spotlight. In fact, on my morning walk to the coffee pot, I was keenly aware that we are in a hospital with two towers, ten floors each… likely full of children who are suffering and have a difficult road to walk. In fact, the orthopedic floor is so full that we are down a floor until a room opens up. So there are obviously plenty of pediatric orthopedic kids here just like Cole. And hopefully we will get to meet some of them and hear their stories when we get moved to the orthopedic floor.
So the questions linger… what do I share? How much do I share? How often should I share? And my thoughts continue to hear the words of Scripture from Psalm 71 that I read this morning, “My mouth will tell of your righteous acts, of your deeds of salvation all the day, for their number is past my knowledge. With the mighty deeds of the Lord God I will come; I will remind them of your righteousness, yours alone. O God, from my youth you have taught me, and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds. So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come.” (vs. 15-18)
As I shared in an earlier post, we so desire for our story to ultimately tell God’s great story! If our story can be of any encouragement to others and if we feel it is directing others to the faith that sustains us – our confidence in Jesus and His great love and infinite mercy, then that’s worth sharing!
And boy did we have to tap into that sustaining grace yesterday. It was a whirlwind of emotion and exhaustion. Shortly after we settled in our room, Cole became increasingly unsettled. We aren’t sure if it was the after effects of anesthesia or the waning effects of the pain medication or just utter frustration for our little guy. But he endured (and we did too) the toughest hour of our lives. We’ll spare all the details, but he came unglued and wanted every tube out and his cast off. No words could bring relief and it was too much for this dad’s heart to endure at times. I’m not sure my tears falling from my eyes and landing on his chest helped the situation, but we were crying out to our Abba Father to help. No comparison intended at all, but while reflecting this morning, I couldn’t help but wonder what it was like for God the Father to watch His one and only Son, Jesus, cry out in agony from the garden to the cross. How could He seemingly allow His Son to suffer and experience such agony?
I would have given anything during that hour to trade places with him. If I had a saw handy, I would have likely started plowing through that cast to relieve the pain of the situation. Anything to bring relief to my son.
Thankfully about twenty minutes after a dose of valium he settled down. In fact, settled down into a sleep that would carry him mostly (and peacefully) through the night. And I have no doubt that many of you prayed us through the night as well.
Light came through the window of our hospital room this morning and with it the promise of a new day. The doctor knocked shortly after that morning light on his rounds. Encouraging words and the hope of a new day. And we are off to a good start. The pain seems under control and Cole has seemed to reconcile in his little mind that they cast isn’t going anywhere. I’m not sure if he sees the big picture and I’m certain we may face more meltdowns in the days and weeks ahead. But we learned that God carries us when we are weak and that His grace is sufficient for us today as it was in the most painful hour yesterday.
There’s the information… given with a desire to encourage and equip those who read to look at Jesus and not at us. We don’t have much to offer in and of our selves or even in our story. But we do offer the one who sticks closer than a brother and brings comfort at your greatest time of need. He alone is worthy to trust your life to today!
Yes, my soul, find rest in God;
my hope comes from him.
Truly he is my rock and my salvation;
he is my fortress, I will not be shaken.
My salvation and my honor depend on God;
he is my mighty rock, my refuge.
Trust in him at all times, you people;
pour out your hearts to him,
for God is our refuge.
– Psalm 62:5-8