Thursday, April 15, 2010

It May Get Better But It May Not

Denise said, "Death happens so that we don't grow to love this world." What a wise thing to say. It's like the Lord put those words right in her mouth.

We left the hospital in more emotional pain than I have ever experienced. It's a weird thing...almost impossible to describe. The fact that it's done. You have said what's going to be said and you've heard what you've heard. There will be no more conversations, no more laughter, no more wisdom, no more homemade dinners, no more grandmother and grandfather, no more pain.

no more pain.


and with those words a wave of hope crashes over me. I hope that in writing this, and letting you people in on a little personal moment, you might be encouraged:

-enter the hospital, nurses are talking, laughing, smiling, death and decay surround us, enter the hospital room, the lights are off, the sun is setting, my dear sweet grandmother lay in the bed, staring blankly, gasping for breath, hanging on to life, my grandfather doesn't speak, I hug him, mom and Jordan, then proceed to speak to my unconscious Mamaw... "mamaw, I'm here to see you, i know you can't hear me, and I'm sorry you're sick, but don't be afraid and don't worry, you don't have to hang on for us, we know that you're about to see Jesus, and we are happy for you, it's just hard to let you go." And then we waited, and waited, and waited, and as the machines continued to pump oxygen to my frail bodied grandmother, we could only sit and discuss the one thing that mattered, the hope we have in Jesus, how it's hard but we who know and trust Jesus can mourn in a way that is simultaneously painful and hopeful. As we left the hospital we said goodbye to my grandfather, he hugged us and simply said, "you all take care of each other."

hope, baby. we've got it.

so we ended the night by laughing, talking of the milestones that my Mamaw has taken us through, fun stories, our wedding date, etc... still a sad time, the literal darkness (lack of a lamp) in the room was almost too appropriate. But we cling to the Light. We have a high priest who can sympathize with us. It's just hard to say goodbye, that's all.

So anyways, that's what's been going on.

I find this encouraging during this painful season of life:

(click the plus sign then click the play button at the bottom to hear this blessing to you)


denisie power said...

I love my husband. I am a blessed woman to belong to him.

The Irwins said...

Aaron this is beautiful. You've just wonderfully painted a picture of the hope we have in knowing we are not destined for this world, but for a much greater one. Our bodies are temporarily here. We'll rejoice in heaven soon.

Leigh said...

breathtaking. in many ways.

Alyssa has Pink Antlers said...

So glad that amidst the pain and sadness and decay you have comfort in the everlasting hope of Christ. Hope that we can increase that as a part of your community. We love you.

Luke&Lynn said...

Thank you for sharing this.