Learning to Trust, Part 1

“The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.”

Ernest Hemingway

Sometimes God surprises me and stops me in my tracks.  It usually happens when life seems to be neutral, with neither drama or sadness or joy…during a time when life just is.  Some of those moments are joyful, while other times, life burns, and we are left among ashes.

Following my freshman year of college, life seemed to be going smoothly: I had survived my first year at Waynesburg, Brody was graduating soon, and my family was doing well.  Our cousins planned to visit in June, so we looked forward to spending a few weeks with them.  The zoo, a Pirates game, and a family football game were on the agenda.

But sometimes life gets in the way of our plans.  This was one of those times, and it’s during those times that my faith is most thinly stretched.

~

The second summer evening of 2011 found me sitting on the swing in our backyard, basking in the first five chapters of Joshua.  Chapter 1 Verse 8 hit me hardest: “Be strong and courageous.  Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”  Those words brought peace, even as I wondered why I was hearing them that day.  I went to bed with that question filling my heart.

I woke to the sound of Mom’s concerned voice as she talked into the phone.  My grandfather had fallen out of bed and my grandmother couldn’t get him up.  We didn’t hesitate – within five minutes, we were on our way.  My uncle and brother worked to get him back in bed, but he was disoriented and losing a substantial amount of blood.  The EMTs came and whisked him away while I packed bags with clothes and medicines that he and Grammy would need at the hospital. 

We spent the day in ICU.  The doctors couldn’t figure out where he was bleeding, only that there was little they could do.  It was nearing the end.  We had to accept it.

Several of us stayed with Grammy that night, playing Dominoes and putting chairs together for makeshift beds and eating snack machine grub for meals.  Aunt Barb offered me chips.  I ate one before handing them back to her and settled into my chair with my legs curled under me.

Sleep didn’t come, so I wrote.  Earlier that year I’d bought a large bound notebook that I carried everywhere.  It had become my dearest friend, in whose pages I wrote everyday musings, Bible studies, and sermon notes.  It kept me company that long night…

June 24, 2011

You know, the hospital is a creepy place at 2 am.  I just saw a man with cleaning supplies and a large garbage can stroll down the hallway for the fifth time in two hours.  Like someone from a horror film, he glanced at me through the window as he passed.  I wanna lock the doors.

I know… I know.  I sound nuts.  I’m on watch now.  Aunt Barb, Aunt Tammy, Mom, and Brody seem to be asleep, and I’m just sitting here…going crazy.  Out-of-my-mind crazy.

Grammy went back to see him again, even though visiting hours are from 10am – 2pm and 4pm – 6pm.  They haven’t sent her back yet, so apparently she can stay.

4 am – UGH! It’s nights like this that cause insanity.  They haven’t told us anything.  Surely if something changed, they’d come out and tell us! 

I keep hearing Pappy say, “Trust, Cait.  Trust in the Lord.”  But I feel myself slipping away.  He’s been through so much…why more? 

5:30 am – Oh, Lord, they’re saying his body is shutting down and that there’s nothing more to do except hold him.  He’s lost so much blood and isn’t responding to treatment.  He won’t even respond to Grammy’s voice.  Dr. Pish just visited and cried with her.  He gave her a few options: take him home and try to care for him ourselves or leave him here where he will get the care he needs until the time comes.

We’re going home.  That’s where he’d want to be.  Together, we will care for him as best we can. 

Somehow I must face it, but it’s hard. 

And it hurts.

            “Be strong and courageous.”

            I just keep thinking…when he reaches heaven, Jesus will put on a marvelous celebration for the homecoming of a most precious child.  When he’s worshipping his Savoir, he’ll be dancing with the angels, no longer confined to a wheelchair or stuck in a bed.  His eyes, perfect and whole once again, will gaze upon the Most High.  As hard as it is to say goodbye, I have no doubt where he will be, and that helps in the tiniest bit.