Today I feel deeply for everyone who is or has gone through the long wait when a loved one is having a medical operation.
Today I understand the emotions, the fear, the length of a day. The grinding down.
As today one of my brothers has had a serious operation where the result is unknown. Six hours his beloved wife and son and daughter sat in the waiting area. Waiting for the operation to be over.
Waiting for a positive result, but scared it will be not so positive.
Counting the hours. Watching the clock, as minutes then hours ticked by.
And for those family not there – living in various places in Australia and New Zealand, it’s similar. Trying to keep busy, yet checking FB on the personal private page every now and then. Hoping to read it is over. But still the hours tick by.
Checking in and passing on their thoughts. Their encouragement and most of all their love. We each read these thoughts, drawing closer as a family as the wait continues.
Focusing on the photo of the beloved family man who shouldn’t be under the knife. His bright smile, clear eyes. Every aspect of his face. Knowing his lack of having a full head of hair means he wasn’t shaved before the brain surgery.
Laughing about that, then weeping due to the enormity of the operation he is going through. It’s not fair. It never is fair. Life isn’t fair…that’s the grief we share.
Finally, six hours later a private FB post from his daughter arrives. My heart leaps. Full of hope. Reading into the few sentences. Rejoicing that the tumour has been extracted.
They are waiting for further treatment to follow, waiting for chemo or radiation to prevent further growth of that ghastly cancerous mass.
I praise God. Then phone our elderly mother to tell her to turn on her ipad and read the message. My voice is filled with gratitude and relief.
But… too soon. I regret the call… false hope has been passed on.
I phone again, and her voice mail responds again. Sensitively I explain my mistake, my misinterpretation. Knowing her heart will break again. And tears will flow again. And I’m in another country unable to console her.
Why? What has happened?
My niece had responded to my celebratory post, informing me the cancer hasn’t been removed. It’s too deep and dangerous to attempt. Until the biopsy is analysed, further treatment can’t be completed.
I’m aghast! Shocked! My hope was high, and it must remain so. I won’t give up believing my dear brother will overcome this. I just won’t. I won’t until…
For those of you who have or are going through a similar experience, I say these words of comfort.
It is hard, it is awful, and nothing we can do will change the results. As we all wait, hope and pray, I encourage you to hold onto those around you. Hold them closer. Cry together. If you have a faith, pray together.
Do what is in your nature to deal with this ghastly time.
Some will turn to their music, another will get lost in a movie, a number will take a quiet drink, and those who need to burn up energy will exercise vigorously or work on a project to take their mind of the situation.
Me… I need to write. Sharing a minute part of me in words to my unknown supporters. Hoping by doing so others going through this as well, today may reach out for support. And discover support. Others may be encouraged to give support.
And some will draw strength from their Lord. Who brings appropriate scriptures to mind to ease the pain of not knowing. To bring the return of hope, I claim The Lord’s promises.
As I write these words a weight is lifting.
My hope returns.
The desire my brother has for more time is remembered, and claimed.
Our lives have never been in our hands, but in God’s.
In Him I trust. I look to the hills ….where does my hope comes from?
I look up to the mountains;
does my strength come from mountains?
No, my strength comes from God,
who made heaven, and earth, and mountains.
3-4 He won’t let you stumble,
your Guardian God won’t fall asleep.
Not on your life!
From The Message Bible