For me, sometimes, it's not the "Why?" but the "How?"

I’ve debated posting this, but I need to see it. Plus, maybe I can help someone in the process.

I can usually see the good in people, even if it’s hard for some to see. I can usually see positive in a situation that seems totally negative. Even if the outcome is bleak I can usually come up with a “vision” of hope. But a time in my life stands out in my mind for having a lack of optimism or faith, as it might be.

Usually outside circumstances and pressures weigh at our faith, and wear us down. I’ve always been one to be able to withstand those pressures and listen to the Still Small Voice within. It’s a Peace I’ve had for a long time and something that I’ve learned from a very young age, knowing that God is in control of all my circumstances.

Sitting in the Speech Therapist’s office 6 years ago with my husband in a wheel chair, pretty much oblivious to what was going on around him, trying to answer simple questions and instructions, with drool spilling down the side of his mouth and pooling at the front of his shirt was a hard one for me to handle.

I remember the Therapist asking him to read simple 6 word sentences and then him giving a blank stare. This, my husband, who would read Shakespeare’s sonnets to me with such a poetic voice, in rhythm never missing a beat, staring blankly, drooling.

I remember walking out of the office during one of his sessions, looking up and asking God “How?” How in the world is my husband ever going to get out of this? How? It’s hopeless. Things are so bad, I don’t believe there is a way out. I want to believe, but what I see reaches beyond anything I have ever experienced, known or even heard of.

When the doctors told me in the ER that Willy could possibly be dead within an hour, I didn’t believe them. I just KNEW that he wasn’t going to die, I KNEW it. No doubt in my mind, regardless how the doctor prepared me for my husbands death that night I knew he was going to make it. But here I stood in the hallway of the rehab hospital doubting my husband’s recovery. Wanting to have hope and to believe but I just couldn’t.

I was reminded of the man in the bible who’s son needed healing, this father had seen his son tormented for YEARS, I can’t even imagine what his day to day life was like with his son. Jesus told him that if he believed that his son would be healed and the man replied “I believe, but help my unbelief”. So there I stood, with raw, blind faith. I know who God is and how powerful he is but he’s God you know? I’m me and Willy is Willy, when it comes down to it and you start to compare...God seems so far away. I mean I believed He could do it because he’s all powerful, but I just didn’t “think” He WOULD. He did.

I don’t know “HOW”, I don’t know why. I just know He DID. I sit here today, needing to type this, as a reminder to myself. Because I find myself back in that hallway asking “HOW?” HOW HOW HOW????? Bleak, dark, knowing that God can…but WILL He??? How much more does Willy have in him? How much more do I have in me? It’s not the worst place I’ve ever been, but it’s up there. A struggle to see beyond the fog of doubt and grasp at that branch of hope before I get swept away. I don't know how, but God help my unbelief.

If I could only take the pain away

The one thing that I've had to deal with all my life is seeing loved ones suffer illness. Seeing the people you love hurting and in pain makes you feel like the most helpless soul on the face of the earth.

I can only imagine what Job’s wife went through.

Willy and I had a conversation the other day. He was telling me of a sermon he had heard on the radio about Job’s wife. He told me the preacher took a different approach to Mrs. Job. He said that her outburst toward her husband encouraging him to “Curse God and Die” was in his opinion, out of her pain of seeing her husband so sick and hurting. She loved Job so much and knew he was a righteous man that she couldn’t stand the thought or the sight of him suffering any longer.

I can relate.

It pains me to see the love of my life in so much pain. It hurts so bad to know he can’t sleep at night, and see him wrestling to rest. He can barely walk, but it hasn’t slowed him down. There are so many fears the both of us face, so much “reality” to have to deal with that it would seem so much easier to tell him to “curse God and die”.

He is a righteous man, never thinking of himself, which is what probably brought on this problem in the first place. He still has a heart for the lost and no matter what he’s feeling he’s always thinking about others. He continues to cook and clean for us, and he’s always trying to figure out how to feed those who are hungry.

My husband is the greatest man on the face of this earth. An amazing father, with an amazing heart. Tender and caring.

There is no sermon more powerful, no words more convicting or persuasive than the life he leads. My boys have the WORD living right in front of them. They SEE what it is like to persevere everyday, they SEE what it’s like to have obstacles in your way and yet push forward, without complaint.

I consider myself blessed to know that he will never give up, never will he choose to “Curse God and die”, he stands confident that God will bring him through, us through. And in the meantime, we have four young men, watching and learning the Peace and Strength of God.