I had another clinical visit today – twice a week I make that dreaded trip to the hospital where crippling memories are as countless as the crippled themselves.
Today, I could feel a new breeze blowing – not just the fresh cool of a nearing fall season – but a refreshing calm in my spirit as I watched the sunrise on my way to the hospital – alone for the first time on that trip. I thought back to yesterday.
Jake, my 4 year old, and I were sitting on the couch talking. As our conversation changed from why he loves Garfield cartoons to things a little more weighty, I asked him if he understood that Uncle Ryan had died. With a look of surprise on his face, he said “No Dad. He’s alive.” My heart grew heavy, thinking I’d have to explain the whole story to him.
Now, maybe he heard this from an adult too, but his response left me speechless and stupefied.
He continued. “Dad, Uncle Ryan isn’t dead. He’s alive, and he’s walking around just like before.”
Jake,UncleRyanisn’twalkinganymore.He’sinHeaven.
“I know Dad. He’s in Heaven and he’s walking around and he’s happy.”
Jakey, who told you that? How do you know that?
“Jesus told me Dad.“
Faith like a child. It’s our greatest hope. I thought hard about that as I drove in silence with only the repetitive thump thump thump of the road counting down the minutes to – well – hell, if I can be that honest.
But instead of thinking about the last 6 weeks of my life or the next 30 years, I thought about TODAY. I thought about how I felt TODAY. It’s all I can control. I can’t do a thing about the past except draw inspiration and wisdom from it. I can plan the future but I should know more than anyone that plans we make are only scribbles on notepads and appointments on a cell phone calendar. Whether or not those plans materialize is not my choosing. But TODAY, I can do something about that.
A gentleman I’ve come to respect and admire through this whole thing (I’ll call him Postman – he’ll know) sent me a scripture the other day. I have been saying it over and over again in my head and it has finally lodged itself into my subconscious:
2 Corinthians 4
7 But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. 8 We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; 9 persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. 10 We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. 11 For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body. 12 So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.
He went on to say that God is not going to allow one iota of my pain to be wasted. Nothing in all this will be wasted. Somehow in that knowledge I drew strength for today. Weird.
Then, as he does every morning, my older brother sent me a scripture that gave me the footing to walk through the hospital door with a smile on my face. And THAT is a huge step for me:
1 Peter 1:3-9
What a God we have! And how fortunate we are to have him, this Father of our Master Jesus! Because Jesus was raised from the dead, we’ve been given a brand-new life and have everything to live for, including a future in heaven—and the future starts now! God is keeping careful watch over us and the future. The Day is coming when you’ll have it all—life healed and whole.
I know how great this makes you feel, even though you have to put up with every kind of aggravation in the meantime. Pure gold put in the fire comes out of it proved pure; genuine faith put through this suffering comes out proved genuine. When Jesus wraps this all up, it’s your faith, not your gold, that God will have on display as evidence of His victory.
But there were still the lab results for this week. Somehow, and I don’t even think it was my faith, I knew it would be different this time.
The surgeon came in after looking at my results from the morning tests. Here’s what he said:
Chad, I don’t want to see you for another week (usually it’s twice a week). And then after that I want you to just do your bloodwork from Castle Rock – I don’t want to see you back here until you’ve gained 40 pounds and are a beefed up specimen.
Now, I can’t promise the beefed up specimen part, but I was overwhelmed with gratefulness and lost it right there in front of the hospital staff. (By the way, I’ve learned not to care who sees my real feelings...if they can’t handle it, they’ll bail soon enough). I wasn’t grateful to the hospital staff at that moment. Not to the surgeon. Not to anyone other than God. He is healing me, even though I don’t see it day to day, even though I still have my weak moments when I call out in unrestrained desperation for an explanation for it all. He is there, and He is refining me into pure gold.
But here’s what’s really cool. I’m not the only one who’s being refined. You are too, if you keep coming back to this blog – because something resonates within you to come back – something screams inside you for redemption. Don’t let the scream die. Embrace it every day. Life is at work in you my friend.