On December 12, 2003, our lives changed forever. My dad had a massive stroke at a Sunday School Christmas party. For the around seventeen days, he was in ICU. After that, he was moved to a hospital room and then to a Rehab center. After three months, he went home. My mom became his full time care giver for the next twelve years until he passed away four and 1/2 years ago.
That first Christmas after this happened, we spent our holidays visiting him in ICU. As a writer working in another devotional book called And This Ain’t Hollywood Either, I put down the pen as we walked through this valley. God had a different plan. He gently told my heart, “You are not the only one in pain. Write about it.”
So, my next few blogs will be copied from the pages of And This Ain’t Hollywood Either. That book is available on Amazon. I hope that these blogs help anyone who is going through this season of joy struggling for peace.
Mourning into Dancing, page 19
“I will exalt you, O Lord, for you lifted me out of the depths and did not let my enemies gloat over me. O Lord my God, I called to you for help and you healed me. O Lord, you brought me up from the grave; you spared me from going down into the pit. Sing to the Lord, you saints of his; praise his holy name. For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime; weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning. Hear, O Lord, and be merciful; O Lord, be my help. You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing to you and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give you thanks forever.” Psalms 30:1-5, 10-12
December 22, 2003
As I awake on day ten of my father being in the ICU, I want to hear a word from God. Today we meet with the doctors to see if my dad has shown any progress: any sign that we are moving forward, even if it is minute. In order to do this, I need God’s strength and peace. He is sovereign. As I open my Bible, heading straight for Psalms, I read…”weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.” I would love to think that this is a sign that today will be good, but I must remain confident that even when it is bad, with God, it is good. He will see me through. He will hold me in the palm of His hand. He will restore my joy. He will heal my father. He will do mighty things that only He can do. I will stand strong because angels positioned on either side of me will hold me up. Angels will continue to fill my dad’s ICU room, watching over him every moment. Rejoicing will come this morning.
Life in Paris aka Life with Brown Dog 