...waiting...

Sitting with my son John in hospice. It has been five days since the decision was made to rescue him from the debilitation his illness would have left him with. A life that he often said he wouldn't want should that be the path his life took.  And so here we are.

He is looking very peaceful and comfortable thanks to the hourly medication he's receiving. His breathing is fast, with an occaisional deep sigh. Each time he does that my heart quickens-and then he breathes again... and that is where the confusion is. To say I am torn is an understatement. I'm his mom, he's my baby and here I sit waiting for him to die... or get up and walk out of here!

Over these days of waiting, his wife, family and friends and I have laughed, cried, had our "moments", as we call them of weeping and wishing we didn't have to be here. I know when I step away for too long, I want to be by his bedside...and yet I utterly despise that I have to be here at all.

I freely confess that I am angry! Angry with the Lord for doing this to me.  I wonder what kind of love this is, that He would allow my firstborn to go through all this, to hurt his wife like this, to cause this kind of pain to me- one who has been faithful to love, to serve, to do "all the right things" His Word directs.

I've talked a lot about Job in many recent posts...and as sad a tale as that is I cling most to one verse ( Job 13:15 ) . Not to say I always "feel" it, but it reminds me there is more to my current sense of sadness and grief.  I will still be here- and after the emotions I am currently experiencing have faded-my life will continue. The sun will still shine, and my Lord will be right there with me- and help me through (Psalms 23:1-6 )

I want so much for John's body to cease its struggle for breath- to reach the top of that "Stairway to Heaven" -but Lord, the waiting is so very hard! I pray most of all for the waiting to end.