Yesterday, we drove over an hour away to a research hospital where we had long awaited an appointment for a procedure to find out why my twenty-year-old, disabled son’s bladder wasn’t working properly. It had been causing him pain and discomfort.
We arrived an hour early, as I didn’t know what traffic would be like. There was also a forecast of snow where we were headed. The day before had been sixty-three degrees and sunny. I kept trying to convince my nonverbal son that after this visit, we would go and get some special food. It was almost noon, and my son had been ordered to stop eating after midnight.
When we arrived, I put him in his wheelchair and roamed around trying to find our way in a place we had never been before, only to find out when we reached our destination that the surgery department was running late… extremely late.
My son, too weak to walk far, was growing extremely impatient because of his autism, and increasingly confused about why we weren’t going anywhere, and why I wasn’t giving him food. I finally just started pushing him around the small waiting area, following an imaginary track with his wheelchair. Every time I stopped to rest, he shifted the chair to make me move again. After an hour of pushing him around in a small, crowded area, I asked permission to take him down the elevator to the lobby to make him think we had a purpose and a landing place.
When we returned to the surgical floor, we still had not been called. I asked the receptionist to contact the surgical department and inquire how much longer we would have to wait. It had already been two hours. We popped into the bathroom one more time. Finally, when we came out, a technician was waiting to take us to his room for surgery prep. We had another hour of waiting in that room before the procedure, but by then, they had given him a little dream sauce so they could put an IV in without him ripping it out.
After they took him into the surgery room, I went back to the waiting room for coffee and finally sat down for a moment. The thirty-minute procedure seemed to disappear in seconds, and I was back down in recovery. The nurse told me my son had done very well and that the doctor would be in shortly to give me an update.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
This morning, I woke up early after being woken four or five times during the night by my son crying in pain. After giving him Tylenol and assuring him I was still there, I moved closer to him with my Bible and notebook so he would fall back asleep.
Before reading the verse for the day, I snuck into the bathroom. My face and eyes were puffy from exhaustion and crying. I filled a coffee cup and went back to him and opened the verse of the day.
God knows me so well… The verse was Joshua 1:9, “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. It just so “happened” to be the same verse on my coffee cup that I had grabbed from the cabinet before I opened my Bible.
Reading the prayer part of the app, I had begun to wallow in self-pity, “Why had I fought to get this procedure on my son done? It was such a waste! A waste of time, a waste of money – the trip, boarding our dog, and now Josh was in even more severe pain, with no answers, and no future help for him there.”
The doctor had said that there was no blockage in the bladder and that, for disabled teens and adults, they didn’t really have a big enough hospital to do further investigation, that maybe I should take him to a bigger, well-known hospital. (side note: This is a common occurrence for parents of nonverbal teens and adults with severe disabilities).
The snow had started as we began our journey home that afternoon after the procedure. Trying to watch the road and listening to my son scream in pain for an hour and a half was challenging at best. Even stopping for a treat of a cheeseburger and fries didn’t cheer him up – and he barely touched the food. The crying and pain continued after we got home, and I placed a call to the on-call urologist, who finally called back to give me instructions to help relieve the pain.
As I read, “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” I wept…
… out of exhaustion.
… out of discouragement,
… because my son was suffering more.
And then God spoke to my heart…
Your face is puffy from exhaustion. Christ’s face was swollen from abuse – for your salvation.
Suffering has a purpose.
What you see as a waste and failure, I see a purpose.
“And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28).
I began to wonder, what if, the other parents of patients in the waiting room, technicians, nurses, and doctors, saw me loving on a disabled child in a wheelchair. Maybe they too would see,
- That all children are made in the image of God.
- That all children deserve love and a home.
- That all children deserve good health care and should not be left to suffer just because they can’t tell you where it hurts.
And I wonder…. what if, the professionals involved in preparation and recovery, listening to stories of Josh’s abandonment, serious medical issues, and the wonders of God that brought him there… began to reflect?
What if, they started to consider how they could be more loving, provide better care, conduct more research, and study to support our disabled children? Perhaps they might even think about adopting a child or using their skills and talents to help others in need overseas.
Wonder – to speculate curiously or be curious about.
Wonder – to be filled with admiration, amazement, or awe; marvel.
I wonder what God will do through this suffering, through the adventure yesterday.
Be grateful in all things, as you don’t know what God will do next, or how He will use your time of suffering.
God is faithful. God is good, always. He deserves waves of praise.
Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. For the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.
Waves of Gratitude 