On a Personal Note

- We are exhausted, weary. There have even been times when we feel remarkably little. The way I describe it is “too tired to think, feel, talk, sing, or pray.” Kathryn’s words are, “Sometimes this still doesn’t feel real.” We have both commented that this life does not feel sustainable. At the same time, we know that God grants the grace and strength to sustain us. If we had known three weeks ago, when we were being transported from Northside to Egleston, what we were going to go through, we would have thought it unbearable. But God has given us exactly what we need for every day. A friend shared this link in one of his blog comments that expresses what we have been thinking, feeling, and experiencing in this season: http://www.brandonstaggs.com/spurgeon-morning-evening/02-14-AM.html
- This hospital is a pretty remarkable place, but it is filled with many sick people, and even more hurting people. A patient in our pod in the CICU just passed away. Heart breaking. We hurt so much for the family, and fear that path for ourselves. Meanwhile, other patients (like Samuel’s old neighbor, S) and their families are moving to the Cardiac Step-down Unit. Even while our hearts are heavy from our own circumstances, we regularly have opportunities to “Rejoice with those who rejoice” and “mourn with those who mourn” (Romans 12:15).
- If you have had a hard time getting Samuel out of your minds or if you been waking up in the middle of the night thinking about him, you can blame us. One of our constant prayers is that the Holy Spirit would move on our behalf and stir people to pray for Samuel and us…even throughout the night. This is not an apology. :)
- Both Kathryn and I are feeling a bit under the weather. This makes it a little scary, at least for me, to be around Samuel. We wear masks and wash and sanitize our hands incessantly.
- For the most part our souls, while heavy and tired, are peaceful. We attribute that to the grace of God in answering your prayers.
- Yesterday, I found myself picturing God's presence with us in a different way than I had through this process. I continue to see myself kneeling before my Heavenly Father asking Him to grant my request to heal my son. In the most dire moments of yesterday afternoon as we huddled over Samuel crying, praying, singing, and touching every bit of his skin that we could get our fingers on, I pictured Jesus, "a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief" (Isaiah 53:3), between Kathryn and I with His hands on our shoulders weeping with us. I found myself hopefully thinking of the bizarre account of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead (John 11). Moments before he performed His miracle, he wept over the death of a friend. I don't understand why Jesus didn't spare himself the sorrow and just raise Lazarus from the dead right away. There is a lot that I don't and can't comprehend about my God, but I trust Him and am confident that He is good and great.

Sorry for the bulleted entry. Feeling too tired and slow-of-thought to write in prose. There is another entry (“A Medical Update”) below written at the same time and in the same style as this one. Thanks for praying. Keep it up.