January 18th, 2008
The Folly of Spiritual Sabre-Rattling
"Sabre-rattling" is an activity in which certain military-types indulge when enemies begin shouting their threats. It is an attempt to assert one's lack of fear. It is rather easy to rattle one's sabre when the conflict is being fought by others, far, far away, or may not be fought at all. Another related word in this scenario might be bravado: "A disposition toward showy defiance or false expressions of courage." (http://www.thefreedictionary.com/bravado)
In light of the upcoming unavoidable "threat" of surgery (unless God chooses in His mercy to perform a miracle), it would be easy for me to talk about faith and trust in the promises of God, and about confidence in the Lord to never leave me nor forsake me, today. However, I fear that as the day and the hour draws nearer for me to go under the knife, my spiritual sabre-rattling will probably diminish into something more akin to a whiny, weak-kneed retreat. Having read much on the internet, and having seen photos of what is actually going to take place, and knowing the possibility of many potential complications, the farther away the surgery is, the braver I feel. The closer, the more cowardly.
I don't yet know when the big day will happen. Last week I was able to complete the paperwork for UPMC's Financial Assistance Program and I got it in the mail on Friday (11th). Now we wait. And while the rest of you may think we're waiting to finally set a date for surgery so we can make some progress in this PMP project, the truth is I'm tempted to begin dreading the prospect of making the three-hour drive to Pittsburgh, checking into the hospital, and getting prepped with all the IVs and other necessary evils that make modern medicine possible.
As one might expect, all of this has given me a renewed perspective on suffering in the context of hospitalization. Except for my gig back in October when all of this started, I haven't been hospitalized since 1970-something for the removal of a cyst. (You don't want or need to know those details.) But I have spent more than enough time in hospitals over the years. Some of you who read this know that Sharon and I lost two daughters back in the 80's. Joy and Rachel, who were healthy when they were born, both died of an undiagnosed brain disorder in 1985 and '86. Joy was 6 and Rachel was almost 3.
Back then, it seemed as though our two little girls underwent every medical test known to man. We spent time at Duke University Hospital where the head of Pediatric Neurology finally told us in regard to Joy, "I've been here 12 years and I've never seen anything like this before." Joy never improved but began a steady four-year decline until she finally choked to death in the hospital one evening when two nurses aids who had been feeding her left the room prematurely.
When Rachel became ill, she quickly began to recover. She had been blind and deaf (as Joy had been), but in about 18 months, she regained both her sight and hearing, and actually started walking! We thought it was a miracle. Then, on a very dark Saturday afternoon in May, she had a grand mal seizure, slipped into a coma, and was pronounced brain dead five days later. I was holding her in my arms when she seized, and I instantly knew she was dying. I thought I would die on the spot.
That was a long time ago. But not long enough. Sharon and I still remember much of what our children went through as we helplessly looked on. Anxious minutes felt like hours, anxious hours felt like days. I already feel bad for Sharon who will have to sit and wait through what could easily be a 10 to 12 hour surgery for me. There is no spiritual sabre-rattling going on around our house, no sanctified bravado.
On the other hand, it is true, is it not, that the Lord Jesus really did promise to each of His brethren (and sistren!) that we will never be separated from His presence? "For He Himself has said, 'I will never leave you nor forsake you.'" (Hebrews 13:5). It is true, is it not, that "All things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose." (Romans 8:28)? It is indeed true that nothing can separate us from the love of Christ, and that His grace is sufficient for us in all things.
So, . . . when the day and the hour arrives when we travel to Pittsburgh with our bags packed, we walk through the doors of UPMC, and the hospital staff shows me to my room and gets everything all hooked up, I pray that God will protect me from those thoughts and memories that tempt me to be fearful and anxious. Rather, I ask that He might have mercy upon me and remind Sharon and me of that great and unchangeable truth that accompanies every child of God, in every situation, whether they are times of great blessing or great affliction: "And my God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus." (Phillippians 4:19). This is not evangelical bravado. This is an acknowledgement, by faith, of what is true.
Thank you for your prayers.
Grace and peace,
Keith and Sharon
