Early this morning (at 2 a.m.) I had to take Sean to the ER. He had surgery on both ankles when he was younger, and in recent weeks its been hurting him more and more. Last night, he woke up and couldn't even walk. The pain was too much for us to wait until morining when Urgent Care opened. We went to the same hospital where Whitney was born, and of course it brought back a lot of memories. Strangely, they were good memories (well, as good as they could be). While we were waiting, Brahm's Lullaby came over the speakers, meaning a baby had just been born. It made me wonder if they played the music when Whitney was born. I don't think they did. I miss WHitney so much right now. I feel like I had a couple of decent months, especially considering I started back to work and several of my close friends have welcomed newborns in those months. But now... I'm at a loss again. Questions of the future haunt me... Will we ever get our chance to drive to the hospital in the middle of the night with a car seat in the back? Will they ever play a lullaby over the loudspeaker for our baby? Will we ever leave the hospital as a bigger family than when we entered? Such a vacant hole fills my heart.
After a really long night of waiting and waiting amongst a bunch of crazy and sick people, I left to go find a bathroom. (No way was I going to use one in the hospital!) So I drove to Starbucks, and on my way back to the hospital, I drove a little past where I usually turn in... towards the mountains. I started driving down the road, and the sun was just behind the mountains, its rays already spilling over the summit and onto the valley below. Less than a minute or two later, the sun was cresting above the peaks. Morning had come. I wish I could say that it made me feel all better, that my heart no longer hurt or felt broken. But it didn't. I still hurt. There's still a hole. But seeing the rising sun did remind me that Jesus is light, and light- by its very nature- floods the darkness, consumes it. (I snapped a picture on my cell phone, thus the poor quality of the photo.)
Lord, I know some day your light will flood even the darkest corners of the hole in my heart. Please hasten that day! For now, though, I will rest in knowing you are the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. Thank you for the reminder of your unfailing love, but please God, please... show me the way I should go. I helplessly lift up my soul to you.
sheyene, this is an excerpt from 'a grace disguised':gerald sittser, this story helped me so much when i was going through a deep loss...i hope that it blesses you!
ReplyDeletethe book is a journal of his 'grief journey'
page:33
"I had a kind waking dream shortly after that, caused, I am sure, by that initial experience of darkness, I dreamed of a setting sun. I was frantically running west, trying desperately to catch it and remain its fiery warmth and light. But I was ling the race. The sun was reaching me to the horizon and was soon gone. I suddenly found myself in the twilight. Exhausted, I stopped running and glanced with foreboding over my shoulder to the east. I saw a vast darkness closing in on me I was terrified by that darkness. I wanted to keep running after the sun, though I knew that i was futile, for it had already proven itself faster than I was. So I lost all hope, collapsed to the ground,and fell into despair. I thought at that moment that I would live in darkness forever. I felt absolute terror in my soul.
A few days later I talked about the dream with a cousin of mine, who is a minister and a poet. He mentioned a poem by John Donne that turns on the point that, though east and west seem farthest removed on a map, they eventually meet on a globe.
What therefore appears as opposites --east and west-- in time come together, if we follow one or the other long enough and far enough. Later my sister, Diane, told me that the quickest way for anyone to reach the sun and the light of day is not to run west, chasing after the setting sun, but to head east, plunging into the darkness until on comes to the sunrise.
So sorry for your heavy heart. The sunrise is so stunning! What wonderful reminders of His grace that God gives us. Glad you are back. I hope your husband is feeling better. I just love the pictures that you added to Whitney's name gallery. Praying for you! Hugs! Jennifer
ReplyDeleteSweetie! So sorry for your heart pain, and for Sean’s physical pain! God (and I) knew the heart pain would come again soon – seems it’s inevitable after mountaintop experiences like your wonderful trip to Egypt – and He’s been bringing you to my heart (and I’d guess many others) to pray more fervently for you. He loves you so much, and so do I.
ReplyDeleteFather, thank You so much for Shey’s faithfulness and willingness to trust You with her pain, and confess it to us. Thank You for her transparency - You always use it to encourage and challenge so many. Thank You for her wise investment of the talents You gave her – You always use her gift of graceful words to bless others. And thank You that not one moment of pain is wasted in Your economy. Please just keep giving both Shey and Sean more and more of Your grace and mercy, and more and more courage and strength to embrace this sacred sorrow. Thank You for this path of praise that You’ve designed to lead them to Your very Heart. We love You, Lord. Thank You for the hope You’ve given in Your Son.
What did they have to do for Sean? How’s he doing? Let us know.
Much, much love. Many, many prayers.