Saturday, September 11, 2010
My husband had his open heart surgery two days ago, and by 10am yesterday morning I was very anxious to see him, but the nurse said "no, not until visiting hours at eleven." I watched other spouses ask admittance and then go in, but I was denied that chance to let him see that I was there.
I had already had enough stress that morning while learning to use the Toronto subway. First I had to walk several blocks to get to the station carrying my heavy laptop, and then I had to stand up in the crowded car for most of the twenty minute ride. Some days I can handle new challenges. Yesterday was not one of those days.
I found my way to the ICU waiting room and made the call to ask for admittance. I was refused, and so, while others were being allowed into ICU, I was preparing to have my own lonely little pity party. But I was not alone. Not only was God with me, but there were others in the waiting room who also had to wait. And some of those were people God wanted me to meet.
A mother and daughter recognized the agitation in my spirit and stopped to encourage me and give me a hug. We got talking and eventually some of their problems came out. The conversation eventually led to God and prayer. The mom said she had been taught to pray for others but had never felt right about praying for herself. A friend had told her she should, but when she tried she felt uncomfortable about it. I had the opportunity of telling her about a personal God who loves us enough to want a personal relationship. And while I spoke my own words were reminding me to share my burden with my Savior.
Later, after that mother and her daughter had been allowed into the ICU and I was still waiting, I found myself sitting next to another mother and daughter. The lady was a Christian, and we got talking. My burden seemed much smaller when I heard hers. We talked about how God leads in every circumstance, and we were both strengthened.
I learned that the hospital waiting room wasn't such a bad place to be if that's where God wanted me to be. Later, after finally being allowed to see Bruce for a short time and then being sent back to wait some more, I read my emails, and a dear friend had encouraged me to let God use me in the place He had put me, and I marveled at how He had.
Bruce still has a very long way to go, and I guess, so do I. It will be a struggle; learning to rest in Him is never as easy as it should be for me, but I will learn, and I will come out of this stronger, and I will have helped someone along the way.
Thank You, Jesus, for each trial, each struggle I face, and for the strength in You to overcome!
(I hope eventually to be getting back to the sequence of events in the past that I have been writing about, but for now, the present is consuming most of my thoughts. Please forgive me if my blog centers around this situation for a time.)
To read more about Bruce's sickness see: Trusting God
To read the previous post, see: Finding a place for a Christian School