6/19/08
The time that we've spent associated with Thomas in NICU has done more for my development as a preacher, but more importantly as a Christian. There have been times during this ordeal that the Lord has been so close to me that I could have smelled his cologne (if God wore such). His grace has been the only reason Jara and I have been able to endure all that we have up to this point. I've come away with a few thoughts that I'd like to share with you when you face something harrowing like this.
First, remember levity. It might seem strange, but there have been many times during our stay at the hospital that a good laugh has been just what the doctor ordered, no pun intended. Life is short, and it can be downright overwhelming. Sometimes we just need that release from the everyday burdens during that time of honest joy and laughter. I don't think God frowns upon it at all. In fact joy is a natural part of our Christian experience. When you honestly sit and think about the promise we have of eternal life, a smile ought to creep across your face. How humorous it is that the very weapon of death that Satan has used against God's people for centuries was taken from his hand by the Lord to conquer death, Hell, and the grave! That's worth rejoicing about openly. Now be advised, there is a time and a place (and an appropriateness) for our humor. You'll have to trust in the Lord for the answers to when and where. Laughter is good for your heart. As long as honest, pure laughter exists in this world, our hearts are strengthened for hope is truly alive and well in our lives. I'm including a picture that will hopefully bring a smile to your face. And while you're at it, have yourself a good laugh out loud!
Secondly, remember the generosity of others. I suppose that is one of the biggest blessings that we will take from this experience. Our church has really stepped up to help us in many different ways. Financially, emotionally, and prayerfully our brothers and sisters across the church, across the denomination, and across Christendom have helped us everyday. Time and space would not permit (nor would my memory be good enough to recall) to tell of everything that has been done for us. Please permit me to say simply "Thank You." All of you have no idea of the impact you have made upon my heart; I can assure you Thomas will know how many cared for him so much before they ever even got to meet him in person. I pray the Lord's blessings upon you, but I also admonish you not to stop your generosity towards mankind. The church of Acts sold everything they owned to take care of those who had legitimate needs. It was to this church that the Lord added souls DAILY. The longer I live, the more I am convinced that the more that people see Christ when they see us, the more they will be inclined to accept His sacrifice of love. Don't quit on people. Love so much it hurts. Give to the point that it is sacrificial. And pray for one another fervently and without ceasing. It makes a difference.
Finally, remember those who suffer. I couldn't tell you the ratio of blacks to whites in NICU, but what I can tell you for sure is that, black or white, all of us understood the pains each other felt. You never know much about people until you've walked in the paths they've walked. Until you have looked in the NICU and seen the little forms of sick and premature babies in those little isolettes, you will never fully understand the fear that unites us all. It is not the fear of race or of expense; it is the of being out of control of circumstances. You just know that at any moment things could change for the worse for you son or daughter and there is little that you can do for them. Your heart aches, your stomach churns, and it's so difficult to sit still and do nothing. You listen to the ticks and whirrs of all the monitors, ventilators, and other medical machinery until it burns the sounds into your subconscious. The sterile smells of sanitizers and soaps will forever hold the memory of the time when your baby was in danger. You're a changed person when you do leave. For better or for worse is up to you. Let me tell you something that I found encouraging: there might be few atheists who dare reside in foxholes, but there are fewer still who walk the NICU. The Lord's name is being uplifted in this place. Clergy come in everyday to do nothing but pray for the babies and their families. The nurses will quickly remind you of things like "He's in the Lord's hands," "Children are a gift from God," and "I'm praying for ya'll." And therein lies a great paradox. Even in the midst of the greatest of human sufferings come the ray of hope that shines from our Daystar on high. I know He is there with each of those babies and their families. We can blame Him or curse Him as vindictive, or we can seek His face and listen to His still small voice resounding above the beeps and whirrs. Your circumstances might not lead you through NICU; I pray they do not. Yet no matter the circumstances, no matter how bad it hurts, God has not forsaken, is not forsaking, and will never ever forsake you in your time of need. The suffering experience is but one way God reminds us that we're not home yet. Be there for those who hurt. Be waiting for the one who hurts right alongside of you.
I don't know if these ramblings will make sense to you. We still have not left the hospital at the time of this composition. We're all three pretty tired and worn out. But if something you've read has resonated truth with you, I encourage you to share that with someone you trust and love. Speak with you pastors that they might have the privilege of sharing the ultimate truth with you. If ever I may be of assistance, don't hesitate to email or call. In the meantime, laugh. Be generous. And remember that sufferings might pave the way, but that way is ever so surely leading you home. May the Lord bless us all in the days to come and lead us into that unbroken fellowship with His Son, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ!
In Christ
Benjamin