Sunday, August 03, 2014

One day at a time

I've just returned from a scary trip.  No haunted houses or dangerous roads.  Something much more personal and challenging - the uncertain health of a loved one.  In this case it was my dad.  He is 87 1/2 years old now, and his appendix ruptured last week.  Unfortunately, it wasn't caught until Friday, when he had unbearable pain and finally asked to go to the doctor.  Talk about tough (ahem, stubborn) farmers.  They thought they were operating to remove his appendix, but after going in, they learned that it had already burst.  Dad was a lifelong smoker, and I remember begging him to quit when I was a little girl.  All of those years of damage have taken their toll, and he is on oxygen full-time.  So, add some COPD lungs to a ruptured appendix, and you have a medical situation that would be a challenge for a healthy young adult, let alone my tenacious father.

The surgeon suggested that family be called, because things looked pretty serious.  Siblings arrived as soon as they could and everyone wondered if the worst might become reality.  Talk about tiring.  I continued my plea for prayers and begged God for a miracle.  Saturday morning brought some progress.  We were still very cautious, because anything could happen.  My sleepless night caught up and I desperately needed some rest.  Mom and I took a break while some of my other siblings stayed at the hospital.  We continued our waiting, seeming to hold our breath for 'the other shoe' to drop.  Dad was moved out of ICU, which was amazing.

Sunday had even more positive moments.  The surgeon was amazed by Dad's progress, and I couldn't hold back my tears when I shared the news via text and phone.  As one friend stated, he may not be out of the woods yet, but we are definitely witnessing the power of prayer.  Exhausted, emotionally worn out, and still in shock was my day.  I trekked back to my home that evening after attending Mass, and I pondered all that had transpired.

On Friday, before things had progressed to a concerning stage, I had already requested prayers from a few folks.  As the situation became more grave, I doubled my efforts.  I was surprised by the response.  I find it interesting that my first action was asking for prayers for my Dad, but yet I was surprised when my prayers were answered.  "Ask and you shall receive . . . "  I know prayer requests are rarely so straightforward, but here I have just witnessed an amazing change and I have to ask myself why I was ever worried.  Laugh if you want, but I can't have it both ways.  I can't say I trust in God's plan and then worry myself sick with what-ifs.  Well, actually, I can because I am a human being.  We tend to be a little backwards about these things sometimes.

This experience isn't over, and one day it will end in death.  However, that death doesn't mean an end; rather it is a beginning of something bigger and better than we can imagine.  As I celebrated with my fellow Catholics at Mass tonight, I was struck by the beauty of faith.  Faith does not promise smooth sailing.  In fact, it seems like it's the opposite.  We face hardships, accidents, death, anger, hurt, and much, much more.  Faith doesn't prevent these things; it gives us comfort to survive them.  I think of it as the boat that carries me through the terrible storms in life.  I may not be able to avoid the storms, but I will get through them.  My prayer is that I will continue to remember this, not just when I am faced with challenge, but every moment of my life.  God is good, all the time.

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