I’m sitting in the waiting room of a major hospital sipping my complimentary mochacchino with shaking hands.
My husband, this moment, is having very delicate surgery to try to restore his failing health. As I’ve mentioned in past posts, he’s often hospitalized, and has been very close to death once since I’ve know him. This is the last surgery his doctors can perform to attempt the repairs he needs, so I (and most everyone I know) have been praying earnestly for God to allow some much-needed repairs and healing for my Atticus. Nothing can reverse the damage that has already been done to his body, but relief from the infections that consume him would greatly improve his quality of life.
It’s hard to sit here and do nothing. I feel completely helpless. Before they wheeled him down that cold, cavernous hallway to the surgical unit, I kept wracking my brain for something to say — something witty or comforting or intelligent — to help ease the mind of my beloved, but nothing was forthcoming. I just held his hand, smiled at him, willed every bit of strength I have into his body. Then he spoke to me and his words were of peace and comfort. I had been worried about his state of mind going into this — he didn’t seem very positive — but hearing him say he’s made his peace with it helped me greatly. No matter what the outcome, I know he is willing to accept it.
So I wait. And pray fervently for the man I love, for the doctors, for all the family and friends who are anxiously awaiting the outcome of this surgery.
Deep in my heart I know everything is going to be alright, because I know God. He always makes everything okay. I didn’t say He makes everything the way I want it, but He always makes things right in the end. So whatever comes, I know it’s what is best.
But I also believe, deep down inside, that the doctors are going to help Atticus and that the work they are doing on him will restore him to better health. I have no crystal ball, I just choose to believe it. I’m trusting God for this — standing on the promises, so to speak.
Today it’s all I can do.
I love you, Atticus.