A Window into Life in the Suburbs


"Consider how the lilies grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these." Luke 12:27 (NIV)

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Waiting... waiting...

A lot of  people have asked me how I feel... how I'm coping... Hence, the update.
I slept. A LOT.  During the first two days back home, that is.
My head feels a lot better and after a good night's sleep, it feels quite normal. But from time to time, when reality hits, I feel that I'm living on knife's edge with only the medication acting as a dam and keeping the nasty stuff at bay. When I feel a twinge here and a smiddgen of a cramp there, the heart beats just a little faster. Not in romantic fashion unfortunataely.

All that happened to me last weekend feels like a series of bad scenes from ER. No where nearly as frenetic obviously. But messy. Very messy.
Now that that part of it is over, I feel like the outsider looking in, glad that hospitals are there when you need them but not somewhere one hangs out for the fun of it.  I was tired the entire I was there that I mostly see flashes of images and people I met at the hospital, remembering snippets of conversation here and there.

I've been spending a lot of time in bed, not sure what to do with myself. DVDs, books fill up my days.
Occasionally, I feel like I'm living through an intermezzo just waiting for the month to go by and so I can get to the surgery so life can be normal again.

Now when I think about things, I wonder why I wasn't more afraid at the time. True, there was a single moment I was afraid... when the headaches and dizziness got really bad and I finally decided I HAD to go to the hospital. But since then I've been generally at peace with the universe.
That quote from C.S. Lewis, has been unexpectedly helpful. And yet I know that there is nothing unexpected in the omniscience of divine providence. There are no interruptions to life because what happens is the reality of life.

I've been reading Randy Alcorn's collaborative effort with the late, great Charles Spurgeon on heaven, We Shall See God and it's given me new thoughts on the future. In one particular chapter, Spurgeon observes that:

Those in Heaven are blessed, but they have not had their public entrance. They are waiting till their Lord shall descend from Heaven with a shout, with the trump of the archangel and the voice of God. Then their bodies shall rise; then the world shall be judged; [...]


For this fulfillment the believing heart is panting, groaning, and sighing.


A Christian's experience is like a rainbow made up of drops of the griefs of Earth and beams of the happiness of Heaven. It is a checkered scene, a garment of many colours. He is sometimes in the light and sometimes in the dark.


The text says, "We groan." [Romans 8:22-23] It is not the hypocrite's groan, when he goes mourning everywhere, wanting to make people believe he is a saint because he is wretched. We groan within ourselves. Our sighs are sacred things these griefs and sighs are too hallowed for us to tell abroad in the streets. We keep our longings to our Lord, and to our Lord alone.


IT appears from the text that this groaning is universal among the saints: there are no exceptions. To a greater or lesser extent we all feel it. [...] (Alcorn and Spurgeon, 2011, We Shall See God, Illinois: Tyndale House, Day 3)

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