I have been dreading this week for about a week now... everyday without my aunt lisa is hard, but her final days here on this earth were extremely hard for all of us. Therefore it makes sense that every year the days Sept 25-28 are terrible....
I will never forget the last time I saw her. I remember I had on a Peach State Pride purple t-shirt with the pink peach, skinny jeans and chaco sandals. I went straight to Statesboro that Friday to see her in hospice before even going home. I remember mama had warned me to not expect her to say anything, do anything or even really know who I was.
I walked in the room. The room was a light blue, I think. I remember her entire bed was white. She was so sick laying there--like a vegetable. Mom was right; she couldn't do anything really except lay there. But, when I walked in, she looked up and smiled. I laid down with her, cuddled up next to her like I had done so many times before in her king sized bed at home and I just cried. I tried to not let her see me but I just cried. I stayed there with her for as long as I could stand it, which wasn't long. I told her bye and that I loved her.
I swore I wouldn't go back. Whether she passed the next minute or the next week, I wasn't ever going to see my hero laying there in the bed like that again.
Tonight, September 27, I went to Wesley worship. This is only the second time this year I have attended. I had some God moments. Last week, I didn't attend, but they started a series on Peter and the storm. Tonight, we had different kind of worship (Wesley is known for "different" and I love it). Anyway, someone read a poem of sorts, a graphic story of the night that Peter trusted Jesus in the storm. Afterwards, we had a time of prayer and reflection.
I spent my time in prayer praying for Mrs. Terri, Tori and their family. For Coy and for his family. For healing and that they would lean on God in this time of need.
The pastor ended the time of prayer in a short sermon and this is when God really spoke to me through him. Greg said that when he was in high school a mentor of his told him that a storm was coming. Maybe not right this second, maybe not in the next few months, but a storm is coming. Heck, you may be living through a storm right now and not even know it. But a storm is always coming.
To a naive high school student that didn't mean much, but it is so true. I think what's important, though, is what we do in the storm. For my family, scleroderma and death was our storm. For some, it's a terrible wreck. For others, it may be depression. I don't know what your storm is, but I know that we all have storms. Maybe now, maybe later. But they will come.
Like Peter, we have a choice to make. In the darkest night, when the storm is raging, when the wind is howling, the waves are crashing and we literally cannot see in front of us--we have a choice. Do we throw up our hands and forget about Jesus leading us? Do we look for Him in the midst of darkness? Do we follow our friends and not respond to His call? Do we get out of the boat and say if it's you, God, tell me to come? Do we cry out for Him to save us when we are sinking?
I don't know what your storms are, but I know that through my biggest storm yet--hurricane, even...
I HAVE to ask God to save me. Save me from my sadness and my bitterness because without You, it could overcome me. Save me from my doubt that You are good and Your way is perfect. Save me from my disbelief that You won't catch me when I fall.
In the eye of storm, You remain in control and I know that full well. I trust You, for You have saved me.
