Sometimes, I’m taken back to memories of hospitals. The
weirdest things bring my mind back. Often it’s the smell of certain types of
handsoaps. I have most of my classes in Mcbryde(VT) and the hand soap there
smells like hospital disinfectant. It is oddly comforting because it always
reminded me of the why. Why I should give everything to Jesus. Something that
period of my life taught me but I often forget. Other times, I hear a loud
noise and I weep. I can’t help but cry as I type this. Motorcycles do it to me
a lot. My friends don’t really know what
to do when I start crying randomly. I wouldn’t either. I’m instantly back in a
waiting room or in a hospital bed, bruises up my hands and arms from IVs. And I
can feel the ghost of pain. I’m not scared of it. It just halts me for a
moment. I have to feel it. The other night, it was the scattegories buzzer that
reminded me of all the noises a hospital room makes. People tell me that I
stare vacantly a lot. I do. I’m just remembering. But sometimes, I can’t stop crying.
Because I think of all the children whose life this actually is. Year in and
year out. Pain, noise, fluorescent lights, uncertainty. I remember the day we
found the tumor at chkd, we were waiting in a small room when a mom brought her
two, twin babies in. They weren’t more than three years old. In wheel chairs.
And one of the brothers started screaming and crying. It was horrible.
Horrible. I couldn’t do anything because I was whisked away to the big
hospital. I have never forgotten that boy. I never want a child to feel that
way. I would do it for them if I could. I cant.
I know I’m supposed to say something that turns this post
around. Something about Jesus. I know God is still good. Suffering, pain, these
are not God’s will. But sometimes I don’t think we need to promote
sweet-sounding Christian platitudes when we’re sad. We can acknowledge the pain
without excusing it.
Winter is my favorite season. People look at me funny when I
say that. I just spent my first winter in the mountains. I love the bitter
cold, the long nights. To me, all the hope is in winter. Once December 21 rolls
around, we know the days get longer and longer. We anticipate what the glory of
spring will hold. I like the barrenness of winter because we get to really see.
What is worth it. What do we need. And what is the actual longing of our
hearts. I can’t take the pain for every child in this world. But Jesus did do
something profoundly more impactful and loving. He took the eternal pain. The Dayspring is
coming. There is an eternal dawn. Praise him.
