Monday, August 2, 2010

Day 266 Prayers, Memories and a Future Hope

Dear friends,

A member of our blog community who I have never met sent some scrumptious garden vegetables to my house tonite, resulting in a sauteed squash and onions that even Rachel Ray would have lauded. Green Grocer Cindy, who found us through a maze of relationships and a chance meeting with Smitty, has been praying for Steve and Hannah since the beginning. Is that wild or what? In my prayers this morning, I asked the Great One to give me insight into who really needed prayer today, and I went with where I thought He was leading me. Because you never know what someone may be dealing with on the inside, where nobody but God sees. So if you get a little nudge to pray for someone, do it! I confess I often don't know how to pray, but I ask God to figure that part out and simply let me cooperate with Him. No fancy, eloquent words. Heck, sometimes I just blubber! Being together with Jesus is the point of it all. The results are up to Him.

So last night I walked into the SICU for my job, and a wind of memories rushed over me like a storm. Straight ahead through the doors was the room Steve occupied for 8 days, almost all of that time unconscious, part of that time in peril. And I couldn't help but recall the gazillion people praying in their own ways - some loudly and extemporaneously, some quietly, some without words- that Stephen would live to see his kids grow up. I remember too the kind of surreal cloud I was on, one moment drowning in agony, the next blessedly numb. I think of the dance I would never recommend, the PICU-SICU shuffle, and the many folks who came to sit with Miss Rejoice so I could see Stephen or get a cup of coffee. All these things I hold very close to my heart. All will be with me, I think, as long as I live. As we move further and further away from this life changing event, I know I will forget some things, and the rawness of others will fade. But the people who loved us is a memory carved in stone. Nothing could ever wear it away. And heaven will reveal the depth of loveliness all that generosity of spirit yielded.

November 8, 2009 will always leave a before and after mark on our lives. Looking back on how I felt then (I'm so glad for this blog as a record of that), I can see some change in perspective. It's like when you're up close to a painting, and it doesn't really make sense. Then you back up and see the whole, beautiful composition - the lines, colors, and shades the artist had in mind to make the thing whole. I'm backing up on the crash and looking at it differently. But forever those early days will live with me. Thank you again for being there. And for being here.

I still don't know why our road lead us this way. But for the grace I've experienced and the mercy I've embraced, I am grateful. And will be til the day I die.

Gotta go. Hannah wants to practice driving in a parking lot. How will I ever let that girl get behind the wheel alone some day? Deep breaths. One day at a time.

Your friend on the pilgrim road,


1 comment:

Tom S said...

Once again, the same old tragic story: