Hospitals and Hiccups

"No unbelief made him waver concerning the promise of God, but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, fully convinced that God was able to do what He had promised." (Romans 4:20)

While this passage is speaking of Abraham, it's a message for us today, too. Like Abraham, we can choose to allow trials, hardships, and what feels like a delay of a promise to weaken or strengthen our faith. God may feel like He moves slowly in our linear, one-sided viewpoint, but His timing is always perfect, and His ways are always higher.

We had spent a few months studying Romans in depth as a family, but this verse was shared again in the ER a couple of days ago, and it was a timely reminder.

Michael is too tough for his own good.

It nearly took him out, too. Mike had been experiencing some symptoms of internal bleeding, so we had his hemoglobin checked again on Friday afternoon. (A week prior, his hemoglobin was 13 g/dL, which was already a bit low and something that should be monitored.) When we got the results on Saturday, his number was at 6, a very steep drop. And by the time we got to the hospital, it was down to a critically low 4 g/dL. It's hard to believe he was even capable of talking and moving around earlier in the day as much as he was, giving us little indication he was in such a critical, life-threatening condition.

One ambulance transfer and four units of blood later, his levels were still critically low. Yesterday, an endoscopy revealed Mike had an uncommon Dieulafoy lesion in his duodenum that was profusely pouring blood. Thankfully, the doctors were able to cauterize the wounds and stop the bleeding. However, there is a 25% chance that it will reopen in the next few days, or there are other complications that can arise. They will keep him here at the hospital until they are sure he is out of the woods and his hemoglobin levels are steady.

Thankfully, this rare event was not related to cancer, and after his stay here, he'll be able to recover at home over the next few weeks.

I don't want to imagine what would have happened if I had not been home at the time. I know the Lord saved Michael's life. I am trusting He'll do it again.

A week before all of this happened, Mike had an updated CT scan, which looks like the tumors in his lungs are larger than the ones from his first scan in March. Since his doctors don't know if they are currently growing or did grow but have stopped, his oncologist wants to run more tests on his initial tumor to check for other cancer types. I am not worried about the results, but am thankful the doctor is doing his due diligence to ensure they haven't missed anything either.

Will you join us in praying?

• For no recurrence of internal bleeding

• For no complications and an easy recovery from the procedure

• For our kids - it was very scary for them to see their dad collapse, and now they miss him and us both very much right now

• For positive news and for tumors and tumor markers to decrease

• For complete healing from all disease

"Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the Lord that will stand." (Proverbs 19:21)

I have to cling to this when things don't make sense, when I'm tired and weary, or when my flesh wants to slip back into old habits of needing to control every situation.

Faith is harder in the dark.

That's what the Lord whispered to me when I sat in my car, unwilling at first to leave the hospital parking lot after they kicked me out of the ICU at 11 pm. Michael was in a better condition after two transfusions but still wasn't stable at that point - far from it. My heart hurt, and I just kept thinking, "If this had to happen, why wasn't it earlier in the day? I could have ensured that he was going to be okay or maybe I wouldn't have been forced to leave." But of course that gentle reminder from my Savior is true. Faith IS harder in the dark. In the light, we can see, feel, and hear. The same scary thing might be in front of us, but we are more prone to rely on our own senses. True faith requires us to die to our need of control and to rest in His very capable hands.

What if I'm not there to catch something? To ask a question? To alert a nurse? What if they miss something? But the truth is: I don't have to be. The God we serve loves Michael more than I do. He can and does use my voice, but He doesn't need it. He is the one who protected Michael. He is the one who is healing Michael. He is the one who is guiding our steps. He is the one who was watching over Michael while I very reluctantly had to drive away from the person I love most. He was the one who kept him safe.

I ultimately knew I could leave, not because he was in good hands at the hospital (although the team has been great) but because he was in my Father's hands and always is.

Father in Heaven, I am so thankful this is true. I can't imagine walking through trials without you holding us up, renewing our strength. And that's what we need, time and time again. You can give us rest in the middle of it all, too. I thank you that "no weapon formed against us will prosper" and your guiding our every step. Your purpose and plan will stand. We love you. We trust you. Keep moving mountains. Amen.