Following is a Facebook Post that isn't about a book, but it is closely aligned to my next release. Which, by the way, I'm renaming after my bride and Beta Readers have suggested that although the title meant much to be, it was a little obtuse. SO, at the moment, the next book will be titled, "Being Job: Seeing God's Glory in the Ashes of Life."
At any rate: here's the post - I hope it means something to somebody. I read a post by a cousin and commented on it. But it reminded me of a post I made around Christmas time and some thoughts I had Christmas 2021. I realized at the Neurologist's office today that I remember the exact day that a doctor put a replacement medication pump in my wife. October 28, 2021 was the day that began a sequence of events that not only brought some of the worst parts of my life screaming to the forefront of my mind as well as causing my daughter and I to begin making sure we could make final preparations if need be. I was lining people up to handle different things for me and making sure we had a place for a service that would handle the crowd I expected and someone to do the service that knew her well enough but that would be able to do it. A botched surgery and the "fix" for that surgery also being botched ended up creating a brain infection that caused the same condition that killed my brother and that I will always have to be watching for the signs that it is returning. You dance a very fine line between "Why would an insurance company pay for unneeded testing" and "we have a very short time to save her life." But tonight I remembered 2 things. First, that I insisted we try to salvage some of family Christmas by having a real dinner in a home and that my daughter and I prepare at least the one favorite dish that everybody loves (and that we can make without my wife giving instructions). I also remembered Christmas morning. Someone had lent me their vacation condo for a few days through Christmas. I got up that morning and was at the hospital by 8am. As I pulled into the parking lot and got the very best van handicapped spot, I wasn't sure whether to be sad or angry. The place was deserted. Her hospitalist had told me more than once how much he appreciated that I was there nearly every day as he had many patients who never had visitors or advocates at all. I sat and held her hand and read from the Bible then prayed with her, then just sat and held her hand some more. I did that until noon. Then as I was leaving, I saw that the lobby and parking lot were full of people and cars (the cars were in the parking lot only). Then I flashed back to being I think 4 years old and my brother was 8. He was in Los Angeles Children's Memorial over Christmas. It's the only year I ever remember both sets of grandparents being together. I remembered crying because my grandparents gave David the red truck and me the blue one when red was my favorite color and blue was his. I remembered this game that my Grandpa Hogan and I boisterously played with until both grandmas and my mom yelled at us because they had asked us more than once to get out of the kitchen so they could serve breakfast. That's when I realized that we weren't there first thing Christmas morning. We did Christmas morning at the house then loaded up all his presents and took them to the hospital (where I had an asthma attack in the lobby, but that's another story). So, suddenly, through the tears of my own came smiles of joy for all the families that were with their loved ones after making the best out of a disrupted holiday. It's a strange juggling act. When you have a loved one that may very well be dying or is at least alone and you have family that is looking to you to decide how things will go. But both are important. My daughter has said that if mom went, she wouldn't be surprised if I followed shortly after. That's the love that we've built. But as much as I might selfishly want that, I love my daughter dearly too. And I knew that I couldn't allow myself to crawl into that hole. Not on Christmas morning and not if, heaven forbid, the worst happened. I don't think we ever said the word, even when I was making sure a friend would help spread the word and another would handle a service. I don't think my daughter or I ever uttered the 'D' word. As I listen to her talk in her sleep (she did it before, but never this amount) I think about how much we will have to handle in the months to come all while being so grateful that I could bust. I don't know if I really had a point to this. I like to have a point. Or as I think Mr. Peabody always came to the moral of the story... But I don't have one, just what came flooding to my brain tonight.
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My second book, "When God Says No: Finding Glory in the Ashes" is currently in the initial editing phases. I'm excited and hope that it will be an inspiration to many and help them grow closer to Christ.
In the book I talk about nights falling asleep crying in prayer for my wife. I may again tonight. OK, maybe not with tears. My perspective on so many things have changed and I believe the book tells that story. But I will indeed likely fall asleep in prayer. My poor bride has finally passed out from exhaustion. And yet, she's still hiccupping! When you don't know what else to do, there's always one thing left. Prayer! Of course, the Bible does say to pray without ceasing. That doesn't seem very practical in modern times. I would never tell you to close your eyes in prayer during your daily commute! But, I always go back to one of my favorite movies of all time. I'm pretty sure that "Fiddler on the Roof" came out in 1974. It was a long time working it's way from the original work to what they finally put on Broadway then on film. But in any case, the main character, Tevye opens the movie talking directly to God as he walks his lame horse home to the barn before finishing his deliveries, pushing the cart himself. Although, he starts out griping (not the attitude I want us to have), he makes his way into the dreamers song, "If I Were a Rich Man." But as the movie continues, at certain moments, all action will freeze as he looks at the camera and repeats something that was just said. I always feel like he's talking to God. I do believe that we need to remember who God is vs. who we are. But evidence supports that Adam and Eve walked with God in the garden. They knew full well that He made them and feared his anger. But they also enjoyed His loving presence. So tonight, if she doesn't stop hiccupping on her own, I will likely fall asleep praying for her. For if we are to pray without ceasing, then it must include moments where life isn't on the line and maybe it isn't even about hiccups, but just allowing the creator of the universe into our daily lives. |
AuthorRev. Matthew Hogan has 30+ years of experience in ministry and is now bringing God's messages as an author. Archives |