Thursday, 15 November 2012

The Eye of the Storm

We pulled up the extra bed in Jordan's room alongside him and I slept here for the night.  He needed some extra TLC after another rough day ending with a tough conversation.  The reason we came to Canuck Place was to explore two options for pain management until Jordan's healing. Both are harsh but one has become dangerous due to the seemingly rapid progression of numbness throughout his body.  So in many ways we are backed into a corner.

Fortunately, Aunt Denise arrived near the end of the conversation with freshly made meatloaf and smashed potatoes - secret family recipe.

And what we had thought would be a few days, (I packed for 5 to be on the safe side) suddenly has no end in sight...that all by itself was a tough one.  I think Jordan knew before we did. A family photo from the summer arrived in the mail as a gift from our photographer's parents, Doug and Lavonne - perfect timing.  We were missing home.

The night felt, on a sensory level, like coming full circle from January for me...sleeping on a hospital bed in sweats with machines going, sounds of nurses in the hall, and Reece's comforting quilt covering me.  Throughout the night, I would hear Jordan's murmured prayers, commands to his body and expressions of trust and love to Jesus.  And then a few minutes ago he hums the song "You have been so good to me".

In a text I received this morning, Reece asked me if I was scared.  And I was surprised, after checking, that I was more mad/frustrated than scared.  For crying out loud, he just wants to sit up or lie on his side.  And late last night and this morning, eating became increasingly difficult, stealing some of the joy from one of his few pleasures.  This is wrong on soo many levels.

Two OT stories come to mind.  The showdowns between the prophets of Baal and Elijah and David and Goliath.  In both, the deck was stacked against the people of God.  Jordan and I have talked most about the latter but God and I have talked most about the former.  I'm not to jump about, contorting and beating myself to get God's attention.  We are His kids, bought by His Son's body and blood.  The act of communion reminds us continually.