Monday, February 8, 2010

Update 2/8/10 3 months since crash

Dear friends,

Disaster struck in the kitchen tonite. Linguine Primavera was on the menu. Butter sizzled. Garlic sizzled in butter. Parmesan cheese was added. Milk was added. And then, it happened. Season with salt. Tip over salt shaker. Watch top fall off of salt shaker and entire contents thereof land in yummy sauce. No longer yummy. Start over. Blast. My distracted mind got me into this mess. I had just finished adding salt to the shaker. I must have started doing something else and forgotten to actually screw the top on. No wonder my daughter asks if perhaps I'm not the brain injured one. I've asked myself the same question!

Stephen and I took a walk to the end of the block today, just for the heck of it. He's eager to get those legs strong, but I'm thinking we might have to ease up a bit. He's been sore to the point of pain today, and the stiffness of his right knee is profound. Tomorrow we'll talk to the PT about it, and see what we can do. Unfortunately he can't take a hot bath (first of all, getting down in the tub at this point would be impossible), because Dr. B. doesn't want him soaking that skin graft. I think it still gives our dear Bob the Builder pause. He says he continues to watch for infection because of the seriousness of the injuries. As you know, Smitty is adverse to taking pain meds. Hopefully as his muscles strengthen and the fluid in his legs begins to drain naturally he'll be more comfortable. This is part of the whole deal. He doesn't complain, but I can see the ouch on his face. These are the times to do what that fiesty Apostle Paul charged: "Let us therefore come boldly before the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need." Hebrews 4:16. Boldly. Yes indeed.

As for Hannah, I simply can't talk about it today. I ask only that you continue to go to the Great One on her behalf. Here lies my greatest heartache, and my most pressing hope. I am forced to wait. I have no other choice. At these times I can feel angry that a sweet angel like my baby girl must bear the consequences of another's sin. If I didn't know for certain that God will take her over the mountain, and that He has a great purpose in the "day of disaster" for Hannah, I would cave in on myself. So there you have it. I'm mad, but not forever. I'm frustrated, but not hopeless. I sorrow, but not without meaning. There will be a day when the pain of this present shadow will give way to some kind of wonderful light. He who loves us is faithful. February will one day be July. All that lies below the surface will arise in splendor. Where it was cold and closed in with winters cover, every manner of beautiful growing thing will make its display. And so it will be for my dear one too.

I finished reading "The Count of Monte Cristo" today. I walked with the complex Edmond Dantes through the pages of Alexandre Dumas' epic story of suffering and vengeance, darkness and redemption. At the end of the book, I relished the main character's final summation of what he found through the rough and ready of an astonishing life:

"Live then, and be happy, beloved children of my heart, and never forget that until the day when God shall deign to reveal the future to man, all human wisdom is summed up in these two words, 'Wait and hope'."

My dear companions on the pilgrim highway, thank you for praying for us, and pushing us up the path for all you're worth. Let's all of us hear the words of this great piece of literature. It's all borrowed from the Great Author of All. "Wait and hope."

Your friend on the pilgrim road,



Anonymous said...

Dearest Smiths, We are waiting and hoping with you all along this long stretch of road...In Him - Joan

Diane said...

praying right along with you... Just reading Phil. 4 - The Lord is at hand. May the peace of God guard our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus!

Anonymous said...

I hope that I can comfort you in this: Not so many years ago, I could not sit on my front stoop watching my children play on the lawn without terrible anxiety. I could not imagine a life where I had any sense of freedom from fear or intense panic, or when I could do the things for my family that I knew I would some day have to do, like driving them places they needed to go or simply driving to the grocery store up the road. There was no sense of a future where I was not a prisoner of my own mind.

If I had to write out what I now saw as God's plan to get from there to where I am today, it would take many pages. All I know is that I was there, and I am not anymore. There came a day when these things I had hoped and deeply longed for were finally a reality.

Because I have seen what I thought was a truly hopeless situation in my life become more than I could have thought or asked, I stand with you for all you long for in Hannah. I wait with you, and I hope in Him, our Beloved, for your baby girl to be all and more than you long for. I love you dearly, my sweet friend. Mary Ann