Day 32 - July 17 - Resting?

Connor had a bundle of visitors yesterday, along with at least three procedures as they removed two arterial lines and changed him to a smaller trach. He is exhausted by all the activity and has been sleeping steadily since last night, and we're letting him rest. The speech pathologist hopes to work on installing a voice valve in his trach pretty soon - maybe even tomorrow. It will be great for the boy to be able to communicate with us completely. Of course, that news is tempered by the nurse explaining (again) how Connor's lungs aren't doing anything but what the respirator does, and (again) expressing her conviction that he will never do anything else because of the level of his injury.

Additionally, since he's been running a fever, they ran some cultures, and his white blood count has doubled. They've started antibiotics again, and it appears he's got pneumonia again. Please pray for him, that he can defeat this pneumonia before he has to return to the beds.

I've heard an earful this month about how great it is to "rest in the arms of Jesus", or some variation of it. Usually, it's well-meaning people trying to encourage us, but I've read of the concept in the words of notable authors like Samuel Rutherford as well. Well, all I can say about the notion is that they are either lying, or I must be doing it wrong. After a month of this torture, I have no conception of rest - I feel like I have spent every waking moment since June 16 in a perpetual struggle to maintain my sanity and the cohesiveness of my family, without respite, without relaxation, without hope.

This morning I awoke in the RV in a state of lockdown after a night of benadryl-induced half-sleep. I lay in the fetal position, unable to do anything except cry out "God help us, God help us" through my tears. After a bit, my sensible wife (along with some mental gymnastics) got me moving, and we got our day started. I limped through my morning until my daughter asked me to walk her to McDonald's to get some sweet tea. I'm astonished at how dense I am, that I don't see through her little schemes!

Now, remember when I told you how much more mature my kids are than I am? Well, we got our tea and she said we should sit and talk for a bit before we went back to the hospital. Then she asked me how I was doing, and we talked for a bit about my fears and concerns. Finally, she told me she needed to tell me something, and said "This isn't about you. It's not about Connor, it's not about us - it's about something much bigger. Connor knows about one person - one person! - who's life has been changed by what he's going through, and he says it's worth it. He doesn't even know all the impacts God is making in so many lives, but he has decided that this price is worth the gain. So try looking at something other than how all this impacts you, and try to look at what God is doing through it instead."

Well, I thought about it. I thought about how my fears and concerns really revolve around how all this impacts me, not Connor. I thought about how the things that upset me most were things that changed all the plans I had laid out for my future. And I realized that what Joélle was saying was true - I was looking at all this from the perspective of how it impacted me personally. I was really being selfish in this. What makes it even worse is how Connor is taking this - with a gracious confidence that God is using him to accomplish great things, and being able to sincerely feel that the price paid is worth the gain accomplished. It humbles me to be this boy's father, and I daily thank God for the man He has raised Connor up to be in spite of me.

So now I'm working on repenting from my selfish attitude, and trying to get on board this new train God has fired up for my family. Like my daughter (the wise one) said, God chose exactly the right person - Connor - for his role. A strong young man with confidence in his God, the will to succeed or die trying, and the endurance to run the race set before him. God has also set aside my family to achieve a specific reason, and although I don't feel up to the task, Joélle reminds me that His timing is perfect - and that it's pretty obvious that God thinks we're ready to face this challenge.

I don't know what the future holds - and that scares the tarnation out of me. I don't know what God has planned for Connor, for my family, or for me. The only true thing I know is that it will work out for good (Romans 8:28), that He is faithful (Lamentations 3:22-23), and He is faithful to complete the work He's begun (Philippians 1:4-6). Everything else is up in the air. I don't like falling. Pray for us.