Nothing profound this week. I write to keep the link open with you, to regain some semblance of productive order. I need to turn off the TV, visit that pile of books that keeps stacking up, at least watch a movie instead of bottom-feeding reruns. But I feel stuck in sludge mode.
Life is the garment we continually alter, but which never seems to fit. David McCord
I am caught I contradiction.
I think that John was gone here at home when he stopped breathing in the bathroom that Wednesday night after a good and peaceful day, but the EMT brought him back. That’s what they do. And I still feel the unreality of the week in ICU, the unending testing and checking of vitals and bizarre conversations, the utter weirdness of being wished a good evening when I passed the screener on the way out of the hospital every night. But I am immeasurably grateful for the time to hold John’s warm hand and talk to him, time for his family and friends to come and do the same, time to make decisions with less stunned pressure.
Doing things around the house, I intensely feel the standoff between the not-right absence of our daily routines and the (guilt-tinged) relief that I will not, after all, have to walk with John to the end of some of those slow-eroding health issues that seemed huge and inescapable. The regular minutes of face-to-face daily care were sometimes wearying but always a given. Thus our days were reliably measured out. But now, there is no routine to call me back from where I wander in my Bible study and writing, from where I now wander in my lostness.
My clients are so graciously saying “Start back up when you’re ready” and with all my heart I don’t want to work. But I’m afraid that if I don’t, I will slide off the edge and never resume what I enjoy so much.
Looking ahead, it is shocking that I might now renew my scribblings and dreamings about endeavors I’ve wanted to try but did not dare begin. Time is suddenly at my disposal, but at what cost? I did not want the freedom this badly.
Now that he is not here, I find myself unready to sort through the clutter that drove me so crazy. However, I must, because I am too young to stay in this 55+ community. So soon I will be somewhere else, where John never was, where he will never be.
No subtle reminders, no familiar sounds of his putterings in the other room. Not present. Deleted.
I am afraid that my life will go on as though John was never here. Please assure me that I will not resume life unaltered.
The world looks ahead at a new year, but there is nothing new about it. It is yesterday again with unrelenting issues, only different numbers on the calendar. I have merely changed one set of cares for another. The resolve I will need to go well into this next season hasn’t appeared magically this last couple days.
Below the cracked place where my soul is clinging and gasping just now, I feel that there is an abyss with no bottom. But when I try to peer into it, I am not afraid of falling into it. I do not fear losing my grip permanently.
I am hemmed in by the prayers and love touches of so many. Every single time I ask for comfort, God eases that sick ache in my chest and shows me hope. A long time ago, I set myself to trust and obey God, and there’s no good reason to stop now, even though here I am, and hard things need to be done.
I wonder: How deep into that abyss would I now be if I had given up? I praise God that I do not have to find out.
But I will hope continually and will praise you yet more and more.
My mouth will tell of your righteous acts, of your deeds of salvation all the day, for their number is past my knowledge.
With the mighty deeds of the Lord God I will come; I will remind them of your righteousness, yours alone. Psalm 71:14-16 ESV
What’s at hand right now is quite hard enough.
Toward the promise,
Lana
P.S. To clarify, John never did wake up, never did respond in the hospital. I did the talking. Family and friends did the talking.
Through the Bible in a Year Reading Plan and Challenge
Well, nobody let me know that they made it through the whole Bible in the year. I suspect that one or two of you did actually, but didn’t tell me because you didn’t do it for the prize. Whatever you did get done—Good for you! If you tried for a while, that’s still time in the Word, which bears its fruit, as promised. (Isaiah 55)
I had expected to have another challenge or something lined up for jumping into the new year. All things in good time, I guess. Anything in particular you’d like to consider? Let me know!
Here’s the link to the archives of Toward the Promise.
Some of it may be worth re-reading.
Take your time, this is not the time to rush into anything unless you're up to it, and it's something you really want to do. Reading books sounds like a great idea. You need a mind vacation. Eventually some pieces will come together and form a part of a picture that will inspire your next move. Prayers for you daily.
Lana, thank you for sharing your raw feelings and faith with your readers. I am so sorry you are having to go through this, sorry you have to move so soon, and you are in my prayers. You are in a very difficult time of grief and it will be a variable and up and down process. I am sure you are forever changed by your love and marriage to John, as he also was forever changed by your love and marriage. I will continue to pray for you. Julie G.