I’m sitting by her in my usual spot. She’s had a worse day than usual. She has more pain than I have ever known, and she lives with it constantly.
We heard of a treatment that we are going to try, if we are accepted. The details don’t matter.
The question is this: what happens when you are out of options? At what point do we say, “This is all we can do.”
Do we just live with it? What if this treatment doesn’t work? There are other possibilities. What if they don’t work.
And then we read this:
As you do not know the way the spirit comes to the bones in the womb of a woman with child, so you do not know the work of God who makes everything. (Ecc 11:5 ESV)
There is so little that we know, as humans on this earth. We can’t figure out the most basic things. The other night, I realized that I have never even seen my own back. Mirrors don’t count – they’re backwards. (My wife tells me that this is why I don’t sleep).
If we can’t know how bones form, how the little life is formed in the womb; if we don’t know the simplest things of this life, how can we know the future?
I think this is why God forbids us to worry. It’s really idolatry. We pretend that we have access to that which God alone knows. He tells us instead to trust.
So we’ll trust. We’ll place ourselves in His hands.
We know that he didn’t spare his own Son, but delivered him up for us all. We know that he will not forsake us, or ever leave us.
And here, on this earth, that is enough. The day will come when this curse will be taken away, and there will be no more tears.
Until that day, we’ll go one day at a time. Solomon goes on to say,
In the morning sow your seed, and at evening withhold not your hand, for you do not know which will prosper, this or that, or whether both alike will be good. (Ecc 11:6 ESV)
We’ll continue to do what God has given us to do and take one morning and one evening at a time. I’ll try to write when I can. I’ll prepare sermons beside the bed. I’ll counsel from my phone. I’ll help wherever I can.
But tomorrow is too big for me. I better leave that in the hands of the one who died for me, and rose from the dead, who promised to walk with me, even through the valley of the shadow of death.
And the day will come when we will both be at the marriage supper of the Lamb.
That’s enough for me to know right now.