Sometimes you just know this is one of those moments that you will carry in your mind always. A few minutes ago the young, respectable foreign doctor had told my siblings and me that mom wasn't going to recover from the stroke that she'd had a few days earlier. We had decided quickly amongst us that he was the one who needed to tell our dad the news, as in our grief we weren't sure if any of us could pull it off.
"Dad," I said back in the room where he was sitting faithfully beside mom's bed, "we are having a meeting down the hall with a doctor. I'll wheel you down in the wheel chair."
Gently, the young doctor, with all of our eyes glued to his face, recapped mom's condition. "But, Mr. Cable, " he paused, his eyes moistening slightly (and at this moment he won all of our hearts, because no matter how many times he had done this with different families, no matter how many times in different circumstances he had delivered the difficult news that a loved on wasn't going to make it, this was our mom he was talking about. Our beloved mom and dad's sweetheart. And the compassion was still there. Looking a 93 year old man in the eyes and telling him his sweetheart of 62 years was not going to make it was, well, hard.) With tears in his eyes, he went bravely on. "but, Mr. Cable," he said gathering his strength, "she's not going to make it. The stroke was just too large and too much damage was done."
Silence. Time froze. A few emotions unreadable went over dad's face. The he said with a tinge of sadness, "Well....There's only one thing to say. It's the way it has to be."
Sometimes you know this is one of the moments that you will carry in your mind always. At one of the most critical moments of his life, dad stood firm accepting what was with a tinge of sadness, but without a flinch. "It's the way it has to be," - and with those five words so much was gone.
Sometimes in this journey called life, in spite of all of our knowledge and wisdom, technology and electronics, modern medicine and healthcare, and even prayer and theology, God wills and all we can do is say ,"It's the way it has to be." And our lives are never the same again.
Through this I'm sure God has His purposes. Those of us left behind are growing in faith and understanding of life through our pain. It makes God and Heaven a whole lot more real to a person when you have a loved one there. And one by one, all of us, sooner or later, will face this parting and this moment. It's universal.
Lately I've been rereading Paul Stutzman's book Hiking Through,One Man's Journey to Peace and Freedom on the Appalachian Trail. Paul himself had lost his wife to breast cancer. He had come to the trail for peace and healing, and in turn had found others on the same quest as himself.
Listen to these words, hauntingly the same as my 93 year old dad's, but from a different man, a different place. A fellow thru hiker, nicknamed Sir Entity, was talking to Paul about the death of his wife.
" I can't tell you how much I miss her," he said softly. "You know, Apostle, there just isn't any way to make sense of it. It is what it is."
It's the way it has to be. It is what it is. Two different men. Two different places. Each figuring out this thing called life.
As I ponder my own journey through the days of and following mom's passing to a better place, I keep coming back to Luke's gospel chapter six where Jesus says, "As for everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice, I will show you what they are like. They are like a man building a house who dug down deep and laid the foundation on a rock. When a flood came, the torrent struck that house, but could not shake it because it was well built. But the one who hears my words and does not put them into practice is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. The moment the torrent struck that house it collapsed and it's destruction was complete."
What a vivid contrast! Thanks be to God for the hope that we have in Christ. If you've already reached the place in your life where you've said, "It's the way it has to be" Stand on the rock, amidst your pain, your agony. Cry out to him. He will sustain you. If this is your season of joy, prepare. Build your foundation strong. Get to know your Lord and maker to the best of your ability. Then, when your torrents come, your foundation will hold secure and firm.
Just a few thoughts
from a
Pondering Pilgrim
