Today my brother, Roger has travelled down to Lake Jackson by himself to visit us. (We’ve been in this house for close to 15 years and this is his first time to see it.) I’m grateful for the time we spent going to church, watching football, going out to eat, and just hanging out. He is not out of the woods yet, but he has come a long way. When I wrote the words below, we weren’t sure if he would ever leave the hospital. Today, he still has to get dialysis a few times each week, but he is a different man. He has a renewed faith. He is sober. We are able to carry on great conversations. (Alcohol had hindered that for years.) He is actively seeking to rebuild his relationship with his boys. He is thinking through strategies for getting a job and supporting himself and those he loves.
Today, I’m grateful. I’m grateful for my brother. I’m grateful for our new relationship. I’m grateful for his effort to come down to see us. I’m grateful to God for progress and for the hope He revealed to me with the sounds of hospital room that night. Today, I praise God for all He has done and for His promise to be with us through all of our circumstances.
Matthew 28:20b – (Jesus speaking) – I am with you always, even to the end of the age.
1 Corinthians 13:7 – [Love] always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Romans 5:3-4 – . . . we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us.
I wrote the words below 4 months ago (in June), but never posted it
Intermittent beeps and flashes
The “chusssss…..” of pressurized air filling and emptying a chamber
A distant siren outside the window
A fan motor
I sit in the hospital room listening. Listening to my brother’s struggles. I hear him “umphing” with each breath. I hear his mumbled cries saying “no” and “uh uh” in his sleep. There’s a fearful tone in his sleep talk. It’s as if he’s having a discussion with Satan about death and he is refusing him. At least, that is my prayer. I would hate to imagine what else might be in those dreams. What else brings this much dread? He has already lost so much. What else could be threatening him? All in all these are scary sounds. Sounds that are keeping me up and motivating more prayer.
But are they really scary? I mean, all those blinking lights and air pressure sounds are monitors and IVs. Each one brings another type of healing. I hear his cries, but there is fight in him. He IS breathing. I hear nurses talking in the hallway – these loving, gentle people choosing to be used by God in some of the most difficult situations.
I’m grateful for these “scary” sounds. The alternative is SILENCE. When I listen hard enough, I hear is hope in these sounds. I choose hope. I guess that means I choose scary sounds too.
Psalm 23:4 – Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
Jesus’ rod and staff (His instruments for caring for His sheep) have scary beeping sounds and they enjoy talking in the hallways. They comfort me and bring healing to Roger. He IS WITH us.