My parents instilled within me the joy of break-neck speeds, turns that make your stomach churn, and falls that drop your heart to the abyss. The thrill of amusement parks still draws me like Betsy to flowers or Barrett to summer heat, but when these feelings come due to emotional events I long to skip the ride. I had planned on pontificating on how finding the tick on me after a fantastic morning had the mammoth affect of erasing the previous good proceedings in a humorous yet convicting manner, or about the joy of leading the tribe of Asher through the marketplace of our VBS Jerusalem and seeing once alienated six grade girls blossom into fast friends with each other and us. Then there are the ever-present Starbucks stories of coffee spilling, customer quips, and partner inside jokes, but this was not the ride that was meant to be.
Instead I find myself with a tear stained face listening to comforting music while typing this update. Barrett’s sister has been fighting the worst case of pancreatitis that nurses have ever seen. She is at the point where the doctor’s want machines to run her breathing and kidneys so her body can concentrate on extracting the poison that has affected her kidneys, lungs, gall bladder, and pancreas. We now jump with every ring of Barrett’s phone knowing that an update can bring good or bad news.
In the meantime between phone calls the ride of life goes on. Work happens, smiles and conversations take place, cards are played, and tentative plans are made for the best time to leave for TX in order to be the most help. Getting second hand info means that our ride goes from “She’s not going to make it” to “She is young and strong and will be fine”, to “We still don’t know what she has”. These mixed signals churn our stomachs and make me grab the safety bar instead of throwing my arms up in the air for the thrill of a better ride.
I have been processing going through life without my siblings and man, the tears come as I think how I just haven’t prepared for this and don’t want Barrett to experience it either. The pain of a parent seeing their child proceed before them, a child without a mother, or the pain of losing a spouse so suddenly. Life is so precious. Why does it always take something like this for me to understand?
Yet the days still continue on, beds are made, dinner is put on the table, the laundry put away and jokes are given timidly. What a weird dichotomy.
One unexpected joy is that we have been surrounded by unexpected friends from customers at Starbucks, managers who give understanding words, to cops pumping gas. The Lord is good. His provision is given for our good and His glory in ways I cannot fathom. His Word is true about being our rest, our comfort, and our joy. So this emotional ride that is not so amusing, was not chosen, but has become a reminder that this life is precious, eternal life can come at anytime, and our fleeting relationships here need to be cherished so much more.