Tender Mercies

Didn't think I would be sitting in an ICU room with my snoring husband as February wound down, but here we are. I've been trying to sort out the last week, with little success. But I feel I have to write out the tender mercies that have been flooding over me, even as inartfully as I can currently do it.

We don't know what is wrong with DH. The infectious doc called him the mystery man of the hospital yesterday. Sounds like more of a graphic novel character than what we had planned for this week. Because we started visiting the ER last Wednesday and they finally let us stay on Sunday, I am being forced to let people help me. I am not good at this. I am trying to learn. I am embarrassed to let people do my laundry or clean and tidy my home, but I am grateful for the weight lifted and the peace that brings. And my children are grateful for clean socks, underwear and that I am not nagging them about cleaning their bathrooms. I am finding, however, that my spoken and unspoken prayers are being answered (even though not the most oft prayed one for answers, not yet) with lightning speed. Someone will ask me what help I need and I will have a stupor of thought, and then a little bit later, I will suddenly know what would be best and that person will call me or text me, that exact moment, giving me and my little ones exactly what is needed, whether it be boys to play with, a whiz math teacher to help with the homework or even a softy of a home teacher who will whip up german pancakes just because my boys (the pickiest children on the planet) said they liked german pancakes better than the chicken enchiladas they'd prepared for us. Even the providence that a friend started a new business selling cute bags and I bought one and it is THE perfect hospital bag for all the things I need to carry back and forth for the sitting and waiting. I am able to see God's hand in every detail, His arms all around me. He seems to be saying, "I've got this." The bigger answers we want about what is wrong, when will DH get better and come home from the hospital are still forthcoming, but feeling care and concern from the Lord, seeing it and feeling it from all those around us is immeasurably comforting. So many blessings come in unexpected ways. The Old Testament quotes God as saying "My ways are not your ways". I believe that. I know that. But I also know that there are times in life when it is rather difficult to swallow. I only know to have faith that the Lord knows the end from the beginning, even though I can't see it. He is the Mapmaker, (not sure that one is in the scriptures, but it feels like it should be) and I can trust in His better perspective.

Sometimes it's not so easy, and that is when more tender mercies seem to rain down. Like last night when I was driving home from the hospital late. I was discouraged and frustrated and wanted to talk to someone but it was too late to call. Except for I have a dear friend who has insomnia problems, so she is a major night owl, so I talked to her. Kind of strange to say my friend's insomnia is my tender mercy, but having that knowledge come to my mind at that moment definitely was. A rather big tender mercy is a dear friend whose husband has been very sick for a long time. Her family is about the same size as mine, with children similar ages. She knows exactly the things I'm going through, down to where there are places to eat near the hospital we're at. She's acting as a voice of wisdom, walking me through the wrenching balance between sick husband and kids who need me, how and what to let go when. I know she knows. Having someone so dear who has been exactly here is HUGE. No, I don't selfishly believe her husband is sick because I needed someone to hold my hand, but her experience is a tender mercy for me.

I fervently believe that all these puzzles, warts, illnesses, problems and disasters of mortality serve many purposes. Sometimes they are to reorient our eyes heavenward. Sometimes they are to humble us and teach us to let others help, to wear away stubbornness, to remind us that we are not alone. A lot of times I think they are the angel training ground the Lord uses to make us into His messengers, into the beings we need and want to be, less selfish, more outside our small spheres and willing to open hands and arms, bend knees and be His answers to our prayers. It's a pretty good system, if inexplicable and painful at times. Sometimes I don't know the answers, yet. Sometimes they aren't forthcoming for a long time. Feeling, hearing that divine "wait and "not now, not yet" is so hard, but it inevitably teaches me more faith, more trust in Him as Mapmaker, as I see how it all fits together in hindsight. Yes, hindsight in real time would be nice, but it wouldn't be hindsight then, would it?

Perhaps the most tender of mercies is the gift of seeing the mercies themselves. I feel like I went to the eye doctor and got a new prescription for blessings and they are in infinitely sharper focus now. I imagine God is also the Master Ophthalmologist too, again
not exactly scriptural, but the scriptures do say He is the Master Physician.

Years ago, the wife of Rex Lee, president of my alma mater wrote a wonderful article about challenges and perspectives. I often think about it. She eventually lost her husband to cancer, and while she said she wished he had not had to go through that particular trial, she wouldn't trade back the pain and suffering if it meant giving back the enlightenment and growth gained from going through it. I try to look at life, especially at the pesky parts, as a sort of eternal weight lifting program. I believe God is sculpting our spirits into true gods and goddesses, not the mere Mr. and Ms. Universe of the pageant variety. But like working with any personal trainer, we have to do the lifting to gain the benefit. He knows better than I do how best to grow me into what I can be. I can trust that.

And so here we sit, me and my Mystery Man. Thank you, deep thank you for all who have a hand in this training program, who pray, who think kindly of us, who help. Bless you. Quite literally, I pray for blessings of the tenderest sort upon your heads. I can see them. Look for yourself. They are REAL.