They say the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. That may be the case for most things, but that certainly does not apply to the journey from the cradle to the grave.
In the past couple of weeks, I’ve written about that journey; about the hairpin turns that sometimes leave us with emotional whiplash or the forks in the road we encounter where life-altering decisions must be made. I’ve also written about the wilderness we frequently find ourselves in, where we feel lost and confused while we try to figure out what God is doing and where He wants us to go next.
If I had to describe the journey of life most of the time, it is a winding, hilly road with twists and turns, ups and downs, and seeing around the next curve or over the next hill is impossible. Very rarely is it a straight line.
Today, I face another hill.
Monday, I came to Mississippi expecting I would spend the last few days with Dad before we had to say farewell. Today, I travel back to Chattanooga looking at more hills and curves to come.
Dad was moved to the PCU (Progressive Care Unit) yesterday, which is a step down from the Acute Intensive Care Unit that has been home for the past 10 days. It seems that just when I think I know what’s going on, everything changes. In this case, I’m OK with that!
Still, I leave with great uncertainty. To say that Dad is in good shape is a gross overstatement, but he is better. He is alert and breathing easier since they drained a tremendous amount of fluid from his right lung yesterday. At the same time, his lungs are terribly damaged with the probability that at least some fluid will continue to produce which means there are too many variables for us to know exactly what will happen or when. Looking at the big picture, little has changed since I wrote about the whiplash I felt last week. So, when I see him for today before I leave for Chattanooga, I (once again!) am uncertain if it will be a farewell until we meet in Heaven or not.
The thing I want to share with you mostly, though, is it’s OK. Hills and turns can certainly make you car sick, but they don’t destroy you. Those winding roads are still taking you somewhere. There is a destination that, if you’re on the right road, makes the sickness you feel along the way so worth it. Everybody is going to get car sickness from time-to-time. The question is whether the destination will make you forget about how hard it was to get there or whether the illness along the way was only the tip of the iceberg!**
I am becoming accustomed to the ups and downs of the roadway. I feel a sickness in my stomach every time I have faced an uncertain day like today, yet I am on a road mapped out by my Father, the toll for which was paid by His Son and my savior, Jesus. That means everything is good. It really is! That is why I have the grace I have felt and written about so many times before.
This part of my road may continue for some time. If so, I will rejoice. My dad is a fighter! He doesn’t know the words “give up,” so he’ll continue the struggle until his body absolutely collapses underneath him.
We’ve all marveled at him. My family has agreed that should Dad lose this battle, as he has stated himself might happen, it won’t be because he quit. He is leaving everything on the field. He will go down fighting, and we’ll be fighting right alongside him. It makes all of this easier, though the road is long and extremely tiring. We know that God has every bit of this firmly in His control, and so we drive on.
Speaking of driving on, I’ll be doing a lot of that today. I will pack up my car and head to the hospital for that last visit before I hit the road. There is much that goes through your head when you are in a car and it’s just you and God for 400 miles. He’s taught me so much during those solitary miles between Jackson and Chattanooga since Dad became ill. Sometimes He’s navigated me through fog. Sometimes the drops of rain begin to hit the windshield and develop into a storm. Whatever the weather conditions of my spirit have been, though, He’s gotten me through it. I suspect He’ll teach me a great deal on this trip, as well. You know what, though? I’m expecting sunny conditions today. I know that His comfort will make it possible for me to hug my dad again, to kiss him on the forehead, and to say with full assurance, “I’ll see you later,” even with the uncertainty of when or where that may be.
So, I drive on with my eye on my final destination, enjoying the sights, experiencing new adventures, dealing with the difficult terrain along the way, and grateful I get to continue the journey.
Praise God from Whom all blessings flow!
**Check out Matthew 7:13-14 for more on the different destinations
