I am usually at work on Wednesdays, but this morning I am in front of my BLOG. I am drinking a cup of coffee and I am letting my tears fall, one at a time, as I relive the past week and even year in my mind. I do have another post to finish. It is one full of the JOY we experienced as Connor turned 5 this past Thursday. That one will be finished today too...but first, here is the flip side of what I have dealt with in the past week.
When you work in Healthcare, you know that people do die. This is another truth. While it is a hard truth, it is that, a truth. You also know that, as a Christian in Healthcare, you do have to be careful as not to offend...or speak out of professionalism about your faith.
God has always been very present in this respect to me. I have felt let to pray for my patients in exam rooms, I have felt led to share my faith and have held back when it did not feel Spirit-led. I have had God use patients on multiple occasions to bless me and affirm my calling in this career as I try desperately to balance life as a mom of three as well. I have grown a tremendous amount (and still need and desire to grow more) as I have struggled as a "Mid-level provider" inherently not commanding the respect of one differently trained yet higher on the medical "food chain". I have also been blessed to have been a part of several families' journey with a very ill child who has passed from this life to the next. This past Sunday, though, was the first time that I attended and spoke at one of MY patient's funerals. She died in her parents' arms at home on my Connor's birthday. After I heard this news, Connor and I set off to the fair as planned. Hard.
Since her death, I have been celebrating the life of my child. God plans all things and this is my unwavering belief. The strength that carried me through- through answering the phone when my dear patient's mother called to ask if I would speak at the funeral of her only daughter while in the car on the way to Tweetsie Railroad with my family and being present in both places- came from the Lord.
Her mother asked that I speak on her behalf as she did not feel she could speak. I did not hesitate to agree to do this. I only asked that she pray for me, that I would get through it.
I then engaged again in the car with my three. healthy. kids. Overwhelming.
I knew that my time to write such a speech would be very limited so I began jotting down things that came to my mind. I just had to pray that God would be my strength and my guide. And he was.
I couldn't cry. I had to be strong for my Connor. It was his birthday, the day my patient died. He needed his mama to smile, to laugh and to enjoy him. He needed to get Cotton Candy and to ride the kiddie rides and to be celebrated.
He was. He held my hand, he sat in my lap, he looked at me with wonder in his sparkling eyes. He knew it was a special day and that his mama was there to spend time with just him. Celebrating him.
When I took this picture, I just paused and reflected, my heart overwhelmed with emotion and pure raw gratitude for this precious life. Does it get any more beautiful that this?
One of the passages I shared at my patient's funeral was about Corrie Ten Boom. Corrie was a famous protector of persecuted Jews who survived life in Nazi concentration camps where her father and sister died. As her father died, she burst into tears and exclaimed, “I need you! You can’t die! You can’t!” “Corrie”, he began gently, “When you and I go to Amsterdam, when do I give you your train ticket?” “Why, just before we get on the train.” “Exactly. And our wise Father in heaven knows when we’re going to need things too. Don’t run ahead of him, Corrie. When the time comes that some of us have to die, you will look into your heart and find the strength you need – just in time.”
Throughout this past week, God gave me the strength I needed, just in time. He did not give it a moment too soon or too late. He carried me through the ups of celebrating Connor and the downs of dealing with a difficult struggle with Landon at school and the death of my 3 year old little patient. He continues to teach me every single day about trust and this past week was no exception. He is crafting me more and more to become the person he created me to be.
I also referenced my life being a tapestry in my last BLOG post. I received an encouraging email from a dear sweet friend with the following poem that I also shared at my patient's funeral. I felt it fitting to describe her life, my life and all of us who try so hard to make sense out of life's challenges on this earth.
My life is just a weaving
Between my Lord and me.
I cannot choose the colors
He weaves so skillfully.
Sometimes He weaveth sorrow
And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper
And I the underside.
Not ‘til the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Will God unroll the canvas
And explain the reasons why-
The dark threads are as needful,
In The Weaver’s skillful hands
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned.
I am home today, after encouragement and support from my colleagues to take a breather. Dealing with the death of a patient is really heartbreaking. It was especially so, in this case. I had grown to love this little girl and her mother. They really had become like family to me.
I am so grateful for this day, to really be able to grieve. We all need to do that, to take space and to confront these hard emotions. It is in doing this at "just the right time" that will continue to enable me to have an open Spirit, an open heart and an open invitation to let others in...lest there be heartbreak ahead, and there will be. But, I rest in the assurance that just as God gave me strength to be in two opposite emotional places this past week, he will continue to give me just what I need exactly when I need it. One day at a time is so hard, but so good.
Please pray for my patient's parents, esp. her mother.
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