If you don't know what you're doing, pray to the Father. He loves to help. You'll get his help, and won't be condescended to when you ask for it. Ask boldly, believingly, without a second thought. –James 1:5-6
“I hope you’re sitting down,” Linda said over the phone. It was Friday, December 23, 2011
around noon. I didn’t know it at the time, but my world was about to crash down around me.
I learned through that phone call that not only was Chrissy in critical condition at the hospital, but that we’d also lost Gwen.
I can’t do this. Help me, God! That was my prayer many times throughout the day. There was no
way. We were in way over our heads at this point.
Dani brought lunch, my mom stayed with the kids, Shaun left work early. He and I went to the
hospital in shock. When we got there, Chrissy was alone aside from a chaplain from the hospital. She looked near death. It was scary. There were doctors and nurses in and out of the room constantly. I think they took her blood 3 or 4 times in the hours we were there that
Her doctor that night pulled me aside at one point and shared that she’d been in my shoes. She
and her husband had 3 children, all adopted over the years. They’d lost their first adopted child, however, to a stillbirth. She understood my pain. God had sent her to help me through; I knew it without a doubt. I’d asked for his help, and he’d sent it.
On Saturday night, I followed the nudge to skip serving at church and instead, go sit with Chrissy at the hospital. She slept nearly the entire time I was there. It didn’t matter. I prayed for her. I sat there with her for support. I talked to the nurses as they came in to check on her and take even more blood. I even spoke with her after about an hour, though it was only a few words before she was asleep again. I wished there was more I could do, but I was doing all I could already.
Linda texted me while I sat in the room in the dark. “What about church?” was her reply when I told her where I was. “God can use me better here.” I wasn’t sure that I was really doing anything note-worthy, but I did know that he’d asked me to come and so here I was.
On Sunday, Christmas Day, Shaun and I did our best to put sadness aside for our kids for the morning. We knew that the afternoon would bring the phone call we both dreaded and longed for. Living in a tragedy is so much more exhausting and difficult than remembering it. At the time, I longed for this to be a painful memory rather than our current reality.
We got the call at 1pm on Christmas Day. “She’s being transferred and the induction will start at 2pm.”
Shaun and I were torn. We wanted to spend this special day with our kids, but we both knew
where God wanted us to be. We arranged for them to spend the night with my mom, then said our goodbyes to the kids so we could head to the hospital and spend the next several hours by Chrissy’s and Linda’s sides…
"Let Go" by The Barlow Girls
Yeah I trust in You
I remember times You led me
This time it's bigger now
And I'm afraid You'll let me down
But how can I be certain?
Will You prove Yourself again?
'Cause I'm about to
And live what I believe
I can't do a thing now
But trust that You'll catch me
When I let go
When I let go
What is this doubt in me
Convincing me to fear the unknown
When all along You've shown
Your plans are better than my own
And I know I won't make it
If I do this all alone