That Was Then, This Is Now

That Was Then

January 1, 2018 – Three Years Ago (Two weeks before Tom’s death)

The doctor has given the orders, and the hospital is preparing Tom to go home. As soon as we have some new equipment delivered and the ambulance arrives, Tom will get a fun ride down the 10 freeway and have a couple strong guys to help him get settled in his own bed. Probably tonight sometime. And then? And then we hold on for the next twist in the roller coaster!

Mothers of little boys know that the spin cycle in the washer does not make earth worms dizzy. It does, however, make cats dizzy, and cats throw up twice their body weight when they are dizzy. That’s the way I feel about roller coasters. They make me feel like I’m a cat in the spin cycle of a giant washing machine. The ups and downs, curves and loops are dizzying, and, well, sometimes nauseating. By the time the ride is over I’m very anxious to end it, and happy when I feel solid ground under my feet once again. So when I say, critical illness is like being on a roller coaster, I have in mind the surprising twists, turns, ups and downs of a ride I’d like to end. No one wants to embark on an endless roller coaster ride (unless you are 12 years old)!

If you have found yourself on the roller coaster ride of critical illness, full-time caregiving, or just about any kind of adversity for that matter, you might find the following advice helpful (or at least amusing).

Things to Remember When Life Turns into a Roller Coaster Ride

  • Fear and dread can ruin an otherwise fun ride. (Psalm 46; Isaiah 41:10; 1 John 4:18)
  • Riding with friends or family makes all the difference in the world. (Eccl. 4:9)
  • Fighting the movement is exhausting, leaning with it makes it easier. (Pros 3:45)
  • It doesn’t matter how much you protest, scream or yell—the ride will not end one minute sooner. (Matthew 6:27; Pro 16:9; Pro 19:3)
  • It’s a long and painful fall if you try to exit before the ride ends. (Psalm 27:14; Psalm 130:5; Hebrews 10:36)
  • You’ll do a lot better if you hold onto something stable for the duration of the ride. Hint: Your best friend isn’t an immovable object. (Hebrews 6:18-19; Psalm 61:2-3)
  • You can’t control where the roller coaster goes—rather, it will control where you go. But you can control how you respond to it. (Proverbs 4:23; Psalm 127:2; Romans 8:28-29)
  • Take advantage of the slow portions of the ride—relax, breathe deeply, enjoy the view, hang on! ; Isaiah 41:10;
  • Finally, remember this . . . the ride DOES have an end. Therefore,
  • “. . .let us run with patience the race that is set before us, Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith . . .” (Hebrews 12:2)

This Is Now

January 1, 2021 – Three years later (Two weeks before the anniversary of Tom’s death)

Little did I know back then that I was spending the last two weeks of Tom’s life with him. Oh, it’s true that I had a good idea his time was very short, and I knew he was coming home from the hospital for the last time. Terminal illness forces you into that reality, ready or not. I realize now, more than ever, that absolutely nothing prepares you for the finality of life as we have known it, no matter how it comes to an end. Even as changes were rapidly taking place in those final days, and many difficult challenges were unfolding, I was dazed, as if my mind couldn’t keep up with the full impact of all I was experiencing. I would describe it as being on “automatic pilot” as I dealt with each new rapidly developing problem, one at a time. Every new twist and turn of the roller coaster kept me on high alert and forced me to focus only on the moment.

Looking back, I can see the unmistakable hand of God, upholding me, strengthening me, keeping my heart calm and making things fall in place. Peace flowed like a river, as long as my will was surrendered and my heart fully trusting. It was not some kind of “magic fog” that fell over me or some dramatic sense of God’s presence. It was simply that unseen, imperceivable quiet sense that all was well in spite of everything that was taking place. Believing God’s truth as it is revealed in His Word brings peace in the midst of any storm. When we make a conscious decision to trust and love the God who holds our life in His hands, we are able to rest in His care just as a small child rests in the arms of a loving parent.

This experience is something I will never forget about New Year’s Day 2018 as I wrote about the roller coaster ride of critical illness. It is also a lesson that has been repeated hundreds of times since Tom’s homegoing and seen me through some cloudy days of sorrow. And yes, I do still experience moments of profound sorrow when I am missing Tom—but at the same time, I also experience the many joys of God’s comfort and the hope that accompanies faith in all our Lord Jesus has promised we who are His dear children.

Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that ye may abound in hope, through the power of the Holy Ghost.

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