Onward

     “Take note of the fortified walls, and tour all the citadels, that you may describe them to future generations. For that is what God is like. He is our God forever and ever, and He will guide us until we die.” (Psalm 48:13-14 NLT) 

Recent weeks have given me a lot of things to chew on mentally. Days filled with doctor’s appointments, driving, sitting, praying, waiting, listening, staring at people who practice medicine for a living, still praying, crying, praying, being angry, being sad, praying, waiting. Lots of praying because I have a lot of questions. Like “how do I do this God?” I feel incapable of processing “is something wrong with me?” My brain is furry. All of the sudden I’m forgetting things- like words, or names and sometimes sentences just come out all wrong.. I don’t even realize it until the person I’m talking to has this confused look on their face or there is silence on the other end of the phone. It’s as if all this new information is tossed in and jumbled with the old so nothing really makes sense. 

Even when life feels confusing, my faith in God calls me to action, to keep moving onward. “Onward Christian soldiers, marching as to war. With the cross of Jesus going on before.”  I didn’t know when I learned that refrain at the age of 7 what it meant. Yet as I’m reminded of it I begin to move onward and I begin to feel stronger.  I wonder if this is how everyone experiences hard things.  Do other sojourners feel like their in quicksand or like they can’t breathe?  Do they forget to go to grocery store or check the mail?  Gracious people are at every turn reminding me that it’s ok to feel. It’s ok to not have the answers and it’s ok to forget someone’s invitation when you’re in this life fog of cancer.  I now with new eyes am experiencing what others before me have gone through. My appreciation for the fighter spirit of survivors is ignited and I hope we can be that for someone else. 

Experience tells us  there are many different things to do or say when someone is processing circumstances but I’m realizing the most profound way to gain strength truly is from my relationship with God. As I read recently I came across these words in Psalm 48 and it comforted me greatly. (Pardon my paraphrasing)

So I “will take note of the fortified walls (God’s Word, family, friends, the church), and tour all the citadels” (the times God has been a fortress, protecting me from heavy attacks..what an incredible word picture!) The armor of God is like a citadel for my life. It is my pleasure and purpose to tell future generations about God’s power and protection. To tell them what God is like. That even when our life seems upside down and inside out, awkward and downright difficult or confusing - Our God is with us. He knows the way we are going. What a comfort that is. What strength I draw from that. He is my Guide.”

Whichever side of the battle I’m on I have a choice to make and so do you.  Jesus has you in His grasp. 

Explore..

Oh the wonder of this world. The beauty of God’s creation. Today I noticed a cardinal fly right in front of our truck.  It was a day brightener. The Preacher and I had made a trip to the hills of Arkansas to see our newest grandchild.  Oh goodness what a treat that was. Oh the wonder of this creation. 

            

Some day he will be outdoors, barefoot and joining his sister chasing the chickens around the yard. But for now he slept peacefully in my arms.  His ruddy complexion, large blue eyes and the sweetest little cleft in his chin. I took out his tiny hands from the cuddle he was in and thanked God for the hands He gave my grandson and that He would use those hands for good and honorable purposes. Next I took a peak at his baby feet. Oh the wonder of this life. His mommy tells me that she noticed he has my toes.  I smiled and inside had this indescribable feeling that somehow part of me is part of him. When he peeked out of those big lids I was transported back to 27+ years ago when I looked into the eyes of my son.  This grandson of mine is the marvelous fusion of the love of two people and the grace of an awesome and generous God. Oh the wonder of commitment.  I lean and smell his baby smell, the newness of him.  My heart is about to explode with love as I hold him close and cherish this opportunity.  Time goes by so swiftly so I take a picture in my mind to tuck away and think of often. 

Sitting a few feet away is my son.  He’s reading Little Pilgrim’s Progress to his two and half year old daughter and she is completely engrossed in the story.  She is listening. He is animated. I am humbled and blessed to witness this holy scene. Oh the wonder of witnessing your child be a parent.  All too soon the chapter is over and my granddaughter is ready to be out in the sunshine so she heads for the door, puts her poppy pink crocs on and turns to see who else is going to join her.  That sweet smile is all it takes and her PopPop hops up and is already following her out to see her new chicks in the workshop.  When I look out the window a few minutes later he is pushing her around the driveway pad in her pink “fun buggy”. Oh the wonder of being a grandparent.

                                        

💚

Before we say goodbye this newly minted family of four gathers on the porch swing and I snap some photos of their grinning faces. Baby boy snoozing away, big sister proudly holding her baby brother’s hand, honey-sweet sleep deprived smiles of daddy and mommy.  The bliss of time standing still and capturing this Friday morning in April. Oh the wonder of family. We hug and say “see you soon, love you”.  As we drive down the dusty dirt road part of my heart left behind, I noticed a cardinal fly right in front of our truck and it lifted my spirits.  A reminder from the Lord that He is with our family no matter where we are.  It was a day brightener.  Oh the wonder of a God Who sees me and continues to show me His love. 

                                            

Consequently covid

 It’s now been 111 days (to be exact)

since the Preacher was released from the hospital and the solitary confinement he weathered in the covid unit.  His experience and my inability to be there with him, for him, has changed our life in some crazy ways. To save you worrying about my grammar skills know in advance that I simply refuse to capitalize the name of this sinister and diabolical virus... the corona virus.

It all began the week after Thanksgiving when midway through the week the Preacher had a scratchy throat and was slightly feverish.  Thanksgiving weekend had been busy and full of food, birthdays, semi final football and preaching twice that Sunday. The discomfort he felt was akin to what he had experienced with strep throat.  He also had nausea that continued to increase over a couple of days. By Saturday the nausea had become so severe that he wanted to go to the ER and see about getting some type of medicine for it. They required that he be covid tested even thought the only symptom he had was the fever. Within thirty minutes the nurse stood at the door of his “room” with a paper sign that she had written covid +. She had been in the room with us getting him an IV of anti nausea meds and taking vitals prior to this, now she would even step foot inside. All of the sudden he was considered to be contagious.  Mind you I had been in close contact with him the entire time and had also had no symptoms. A doctor and a “working on being a doctor” person finally came to talk to us after we had been there for about 4 hours.  Their treatment plan included a narcotic (Tussionex) later I learned that this drug can kill a child if they accidentally ingest it. He was also prescribed a steroid and an albuterol inhaler.  I should tell you that the Preacher has been ill only a handful of times in the 24+ years we have been married and the strongest thing he has taken is an antibiotic (except for pain medicine for dental surgery). So having this menace diagnosis and meds he has never taken before we were banished to our home for quarantine.  

Hindsight is currently kicking me in the teeth.  Little information was given to us about the extreme side effects of these medications and that if someone had that diagnosis how important it was for the patient to be up and moving around - not sleeping a lot. When we got home later that afternoon the Preacher began to experience shortness of breath. It seemed completely random and ironic considering he had no had anything like that prior to being in the ER.  (In the ER they made us wear masks) I did not know prior to this but in reading found that the anti nausea meds they gave him via IV can cause lethargy and shortness of breath.  The tussionex also causes a depressed respiratory and nervous system.  The inhaler on the other hand can cause shakiness in the legs, arms, hands or feet, trembling, fast, irregular, pounding or racing heartbeat of pulse, cough and difficulty breathing.  Is anyone else seeing a disaster looming? 

Within about 52 hours the Preacher would begin having some serious problems with breathing. The details are etched in my mind. It was terrifying to awaken to my husband shaking and trembling unable to calm down. After an hour of foot rubbing, loads of blankets and me noticing he was blue around the mouth. (Insert freak out face) I called 911. 

The Preacher spent 8 days in the hospital. Eight difficult, isolating, frustrating days. Scary days. Alone. 

I had to quarantine as I had been around him the entire time leading up to his getting diagnosed and now they wouldn’t let me come to the hospital and see him. The world that has been consequently covid ruled is a darker, more fear filled world. The hospitals that “help” covid patients have as much if not more fear than those of us on the outside. Care for the Preacher was below average.  We did everything we could to get him out as soon as we possibly could.  

I would not wish this experience on my worst enemy. By the grace of God we got through it.  If you are reading this know that you have to be an advocate for your family member.  It’s vital.  It’s life or death.