Good morning…
When we left my mom in the ICU, it was a blustery late March evening with light snowflakes swirling in the Ohio air. There was a strand of hope frozen in our minds: mom had opened her eyes for about five minutes. Then she had drifted away from us again. Sustained by the ventilator, her body was deeply in need of rest. We left the hospital cautiously optimistic. For nearly two days she had been heavily sedated and unresponsive. But that memorable evening she opened her eyes in response to the familiar voice of my dad, her husband for over sixty years.
My brother and sister, dad and I returned to my parents villa in their continuum of care community. We enjoyed a hot, delicious dinner delivered from the dining hall to our doorstep. Extremely tired, exhausted on all levels, we drifted in an out of conversation to mindless TV before we went to bed. My sister and I were given the guest room while my brother stretched out on the couch.
In the middle of the night, I woke like I often do and my sister also stirred fully awake. We turned on the light and had a heart-to-heart conversation in the dark, wee hours of an uncertain night. We both agreed. What a miracle it had been to witness the deep love of our father pulling our mom toward conscious awareness. Might the ray of hope we saw snowball into more and more of our mom returning to us? Might her high fevers and full bodied infection leave her with permanent limitations? Might her eyes opening briefly be a final goodbye or a new hello to a life of slow, steady recovery? We didn’t know exactly what to pray but we both trusted the Spirit to stand in the gap, praying for us in accordance with the will of God.
My sister left to do her quiet time in the kitchen and I climbed under the covers for my second sleep. Quickly peeking her head back into the bedroom, “Look out the window,” she said. I lifted the blind to survey the back yard. Here is what I saw.
A late-in-the-season snow had accumulated on the ground. Coming from a colorful spring in Atlanta, Georgia, the pristine sight felt positively peaceful. Might signs of hope accumulate for our family in the days ahead?
After I woke from my second sleep, I joined my dad and siblings at the kitchen table. We read the comics in the Sunday paper and then opened to my mom’s favorite section, “Faith and You,” penned by her favorite local writer, Terry Pluto. My sister read the article aloud to us all, an article which ending in a final section entitled: PRAYING WHILE TIRED.
“Sometimes, we feel too tired to pray – especially if we consider prayer to be only something formal,” writes Terry. “But there are times when simply calling out to God in your weariness is a form of prayer. Romans 8:26: “The Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.” That’s how we feel sometimes. We can’t form the words, but we know we need a Holy Spirit refill.”
“Romans 8:27:” Pluto continues. “‘And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God.’ James mentioned the need to be ‘quiet’ before God. I’ve done that and fallen asleep, which isn’t bad. It’s probably what I needed, an answer to the prayer of the weary.”
God had reiterated the exact same Bible verse my sister and I had discussed in the middle of the night. What an amazing gift. With my dad’s permission, I cut out the newspaper article and took it to the hospital. If she woke up again, might I share it with my mom?
Only allowed two visitors at a time, my dad and my sister went into the room first. Coming out to the waiting room several minutes later, they shared the glorious news: “Mom’s eyes were open. She seemed to know who we were.”
My brother and I went in next. Mom greeted us each with a silent smile, then she pointed to and very quietly read the words on my brother’s sweatshirt: “Saint Vincent’s College.” (The college in Pennsylvania where my brother teaches and coaches.)
“Yeah, mom, I was all dressed to go to our track meet…” he said. “…but he ran here to see you instead,” I finished his happy sentence.
“Susie has an article to read to you, mom,” my brother stood beside me as I read out loud the article we had enjoyed at breakfast. My mom closed her eyes, seeming to listen, and opened them with a smile when I was through reading. “I bet you are a little weary,” I said and she nodded. “The Spirit knows exactly what you need. Falling asleep in prayer is the very best thing we can do when we’re tired.”
“The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still” (Exodus 14:14, NIV).
On that sacred Sabbath morn, God had taken us to church in the ICU. The fighting Spirit of God, who searches our hearts, had given us all a very special sermon.
…Sue…
