Monday, July 31, 2006
Sharing the Heaviness
I spent a good portion of this afternoon and evening at eh hospital with my dear friend Dave, and his brother Donald, and their dying mother. It was a conversation that touched on heaven, baseball, family, the church and a wide vaiety of topics designed to alternately explore and ignore the heaviness in the room. It was not a heaviness of hopelessness. Nor a heaviness of faithlessness. It was the heaviness of faitigue.
On Christmas morning, December 25, Dave's son Isaac had a massive seizure and was rushed to the hospital. Doctors told Dave and Amy that their son would not live until New Year's Day. But he did, and not long afterwards, Isaac was diagnosed with HLH (the full medical name escapes me, now) and has since been transferred from lexington to Cincinnati Children's, where last week he marked his seventh month in ICU. The seizure damaged his brain, and as a result, Isaac lost his sight. But he fights for life daily, as Dave and Amyjuggle turns at his bedside, with care for their other two children.
In February, Dave's dad had a stroke and was hospitalized, where he died a few days later. I rememebr talking on the phone with Dave as he anguished over whether to be a the bedside of his dying father or his dying son. In the meantime, Dave's mom was infected with a mutant staph infection called necrotizing fascitis, the flesh eating infection. (She was not able to attend the funeral for her husband, because she was in ICU.) The stress on her body caused her to have a massive heart attack, and she has been in ICU at UK Med Center since late January. Today, her sons Dave and Donald had to hear doctors tell them that she was failing, and they and to make decisions about life-support.
According to James 1, where we are instructed to count our sufferings as joy, my friend Dave should be the happiest SOB in the world. The beautiful thing is ... Dave is still standing on the faith that God is good, and will redeem all of these hurts. But that doesn't change the fact that he is tired ... emotionally drained. It makes me feel ashamed for indulging in even a small pity party. And it makes me deeply grateful for God's grace, that can transcend our hurts and pains and exhaustion.
Pray for Dave. And Edna, his mom. And his son Isaac. And Amy, Dave's wife. And Donald, hs brother. And don't miss a chance to thank God for His blessings.
Peace,
harry
On Christmas morning, December 25, Dave's son Isaac had a massive seizure and was rushed to the hospital. Doctors told Dave and Amy that their son would not live until New Year's Day. But he did, and not long afterwards, Isaac was diagnosed with HLH (the full medical name escapes me, now) and has since been transferred from lexington to Cincinnati Children's, where last week he marked his seventh month in ICU. The seizure damaged his brain, and as a result, Isaac lost his sight. But he fights for life daily, as Dave and Amyjuggle turns at his bedside, with care for their other two children.
In February, Dave's dad had a stroke and was hospitalized, where he died a few days later. I rememebr talking on the phone with Dave as he anguished over whether to be a the bedside of his dying father or his dying son. In the meantime, Dave's mom was infected with a mutant staph infection called necrotizing fascitis, the flesh eating infection. (She was not able to attend the funeral for her husband, because she was in ICU.) The stress on her body caused her to have a massive heart attack, and she has been in ICU at UK Med Center since late January. Today, her sons Dave and Donald had to hear doctors tell them that she was failing, and they and to make decisions about life-support.
According to James 1, where we are instructed to count our sufferings as joy, my friend Dave should be the happiest SOB in the world. The beautiful thing is ... Dave is still standing on the faith that God is good, and will redeem all of these hurts. But that doesn't change the fact that he is tired ... emotionally drained. It makes me feel ashamed for indulging in even a small pity party. And it makes me deeply grateful for God's grace, that can transcend our hurts and pains and exhaustion.
Pray for Dave. And Edna, his mom. And his son Isaac. And Amy, Dave's wife. And Donald, hs brother. And don't miss a chance to thank God for His blessings.
Peace,
harry
