Between my wife’s 4-month hospitalization from August to December, and my son’s 3-month hospitalization from December to March, I have been to and from the hospital every day for the past 203 days. 203 consecutive days in and days out being on quite the emotional rollercoaster. Since August 25, 2015 I’ve eaten more meals from hospital trays than from my own kitchen. I’ve slept on the unpleasantness of hospital pull-out couches more than the comfort of my own mattress. But today when I left the hospital, I left knowing I did not have to come back in 24 hours. I left without having to hear the words, “See you tomorrow” from the lovely ladies at the nursing desk. I left without having to get a report from an ICU or NICU nurse. Today…I left saying goodbye.
Goodbye to a place that induced feelings of fear not knowing what the end result would be, but also a place that increased my faith to another level I never knew existed. I said goodbye to a place that left me weak and burdened some days, but a place that also left me hopeful on other days. I said goodbye to a place that made me shake my hands in grievance at God calling Him unfair at times, but also a place that made me shake my head in amazement at God calling Him a miracle worker at other times.
I must be honest. There were times when I thought I would leave this place alone. Times when I thought this would be the place I lost the love of my life, and the son I longed for but never would be able to meet. Times when I thought the empty spot on the other side of my bed would be permanent. Times when I thought the only memories of my son I’d have would be ultrasound pictures.
But today I praise God to the highest that this did not end up being a place of loss, but rather a place of gain. I thank God that this did not end up being a place of untimely remorse, but rather a place of ultimate rejoicing. It did not end up a place of death, but rather a place of continued and new life. Today I did not leave out for the last time…alone. Today I left out for the last time…with my wife in one hand, and my son in the other hand.
I’ve heard about miracles, preached about miracles, and in the lives of others have witnessed miracles. But today for the first time in my 27 years of living I’ve held not 1, but 2 miracles hand in hand. For the first time I’ve watched from start to finish the process of miracles. They’re not pretty at the beginning, but at their conclusion those who experience and witness them are left with the blessed assurance that Jesus is certainly their own.
God has shown me so much over this lengthy gruesome journey. I’ve learned that when the faith, trust, and belief we proclaim to have in God is really tested, it’s that same faith, trust, and belief that are the only things we have to depend on to get us through. When I step back and attempt to take an outsider’s look into everything that happened, how I’m still standing today shocks me more than anybody else. All I know is one thing…through it all I’m still here. My wife is still here. My son is here. And most of all God is here, and has always been here even in the midst of so much suffering.
Today I said goodbye to my misery, and hello to my miracles. And guess what…I have a feeling that the miracles haven’t stopped here. There’s more to come. We’ve gone through too much for this to be it. This will be our year of restoration. This will be our year of overflow.
