Great is Thy Faithfulness

Even as I was sitting there, I could feel myself going numb. Tuning out all of the beeps that are in the hospital, squeezing my eyes shut so that I did not see the nearly lifeless body in front of me. The body of the one who gave me life. The one who nurtured me, and taught me, the one who was always there for me. My mom. 

With my head in my hands and my eyes tightly closed, I tried to imagine what life was like before. When my mom wasn’t in the hospital, and she was fussing over me. When we would take long walks on the beach and have our girl time. Away from my husband, Dad, and brother. We would walk together and chat. It was so magical, and now all of it was at risk because of that one forbidden word. Cancer.

The word that had ruined everything, that had broken off pieces of my mom all of a sudden, until there was almost nothing left of her already skinny frame. This disease was destroying my mom, and no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t punch it in the face. There was no way for me to make it go away, or make it better. I just had to sit and wait and watch her slowly waste away. I was helpless to do anything, and yet I did everything that I could. I prayed.

Lord, please. I begged. Please let her be alright. Let her recover, Lord, please. I felt like a child asking for a toy over and over again until it was given to them. Let your will be done Lord, even if that is taking her home. Let her not be in pain. Let me have the chance to say goodbye, to apologize, to tell her I love her. Please, Lord. 

My mind drifted to that fateful, terrible day before everything went downhill. 

“Mom, can't you just listen to me?” I had practically screamed. Now, I don’t even remember what I wanted her to listen to. 

“I am listening sweetheart.”

“No, you’re not. You are just criticizing everything I say and tearing down every argument just to prove you are right, and I’m tired of it!" Satisfied that I had had the last word, I turned on my heel and slammed the door. Three days later I got the call from my dad.

 “Your mom isn’t feeling well sweetheart; you should really come to see her.” I flatly refused. I got another one two days later, “She still feels pretty bad so we are going to the doctor. She misses you and wishes you were here.” I retorted back with, “It’s her fault I’m not there!” Another one two weeks later: “They did some tests and your mom has cancer. It is throughout her entire body.” I hear blatant fear and despair even through a phone call as he starts sobbing. “She is in hospice care.” This time he didn’t even ask me to come because he knew that if I had made a decision nothing would sway me. He knew that I was that stubborn.

I caught the first bus from my house and headed to the hospital as soon as I could, not believing how harshly I had treated her, and realizing how much I would regret it if she passed away. Now here I am.

Despair and an overwhelming sense of dread and a powerless feeling fills my mind, as the doctor walks in with a grave face.

“I’m glad you are here. She needs you.”

“Emma?” my mom croaked, barely even audible.

“Yes! I’m here, Mom. I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean what I said! Is there anything I can do?” I rush through my words wanting to make sure I say every single one before she drifts off again. 

“It’s. . .ok.” She manages to get out. “Forgive,” she whispers. Her eyes close as if she is trying to shut out the pain. “Pray,” the one simple word that can give hope, love, and most importantly miracles.

“Ok. I will. Dear Lord, just” my voice cracks from the thought of what is going to happen very soon, "just please fix my mom. Let her not be in pain and” I take a deep breath steadying myself so I do not completely break down, “and Lord if you do take her to Heaven, let her know that we love her and will miss her terribly. Please, Lord, we are asking for a miracle, please heal her. But Your will be done always.” 

“Love.” 

“I love you too Mama. Please get better.” I don't even try to stop the tears running down my face. “Please.”

“God’s. . .will. Love you.”

That night I prayed more feverishly than I have ever prayed before. I begged and pleaded with God. Asking Him to spare her, asking Him to work a miracle. I knew it would probably be to no avail-she was on hospice care-but I had to try anyway. And try I did. I prayed my heart out, trying to understand what the purpose of this was, and why God would do this to me. Why did He want my life to fall apart? Did He hate me? That one night I grew more in my spiritual journey than I have ever before. My mom was caught in between life and death and only hanging on by a thread. I asked questions that I had never even thought to ask before. Was God even real? What kind of a God would let this happen? How could He possibly care for me? 

Despite my doubts, I kept praying. I prayed and pleaded and begged with God all 12 hours of the night, and even then I could only hope that His will was to let her live. I knew that this night would be the determining factor.

“Emma?” I was pulled out of a sleepy daze by the doctor’s voice, and I sat up and blinked trying to comprehend what he was saying so I could form a response that even made sense. 

“Uh whuh huh, what?”

“Umm. . .I’m not entirely sure that was English.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that. What were you saying?"

“I have some news.” After one glance at his somber face, my heart starts to pound, and my palms get sweaty. You know the saying "no news is good news?" I think the opposite is also true. News is usually bad news.

“What?” I inquire as evenly as possible trying not to display my fears.

“She is going to be ok.”

“What? What do you mean.”

“We have no idea what happened. Last night she was on death’s door, and now today her vitals have improved significantly. It is a miracle.” He sounds shocked as if he thinks that if science can fail, anything is possible. I watch as he runs his hands through his hair and gazes at the thin air as if it has all of the secrets of life.

"Emma? Hi sweetheart. I'm so glad you are here!" She practically exclaims and I can feel the energy radiating off of her, "I feel amazing! God works in amazing ways. Never forget that."

I feel like jumping up and down and throwing my arms around my mom, so I do. I cannot contain my joy. This is an absolute miracle. God listens. The old hymn "Great is Thy Faithfulness" drifts to the forefront of my mind, and I have never realized the raw truth in that song before today. "Morning by morning new mercies I see. All I have needed Thy hand hath provided. Great is Thy faithfulness Lord unto me." Sometimes it takes a slap in the face to realize all of the blessings that you have. I know I will never be the same.