We are waiting on so much here at the hospital…specifically for Chris’s kidney function to improve. We have an amazing nephrologist who we respect and appreciate on so many levels–we believe we are well cared for–but there is no improvement so far. We are waiting. Typing those words reminds me that as we wait on medical things–things of earth and flesh–we also wait on eternal things. We dwell in eternal things. What a mercy. What a mercy, that amidst these sad, breaking, complicated, logistical, theoretical, daunting, painful days, there is an undergirding sense of being held. There is an overarching sense of God’s reality and everything that He Is.
I experience this sense through so many avenues. It can be direct and intense, especially in my weakest moments alone. And often, it is in the five million big and small things that we are given in a day by you all. Simply driving home from the hospital this afternoon, two separate dear friends ended up in the lane next to me and rolled down their windows to say, “I love you” as I passed. I have never felt so thoroughly carried in my life. At every turn; in every way.
I’m reminded of another difficult day a couple weeks ago. Chris had gone in for a Paracentesis to drain fluid off of his abdomen. It ended up being a very traumatic experience for a couple of reasons, and after joining me briefly afterwards in the waiting room, he had to be taken back again abruptly. I was left there very scared and panicked. I sat down in a chair, so frightened, and my eye caught a man sitting across the room. He was waving his arm back and forth above his head. It took me a minute to realize he was waving to get my attention. He held my gaze. Then he pointed to his chest, then made prayer hands, then he pointed to me. I lowered my head and sobbed. I looked back up, and he was still looking at me, his hands still pressed together in front of his face. He held that position for ten minutes as I waited to hear how Chris was. I just stared through my tears, and he just prayed. We are carried.
I’m not sure how Chris is experiencing the Lord these days. We are both in the valley, but he is bearing it all in his body. Even adjusting positions in his bed is a challenge. He trusts the Lord. He can recognize him. But he is encumbered heavily, and it may be that the entryways in and out of his own spirit feel smaller and tighter. I don’t know.
Thank you all so much for loving us. I still feel scared. But even recalling and writing these things centers me. Thank you for carrying us so thoroughly.
**Chris hasn’t been using his phone much at all while we’ve been here, but he wanted to say thank you to all who have texted and called him.