Halt

Halt.

Life once again has brought us here.  The halt will not be for nearly as long this time, but that does not stop my memory from replaying the feelings from the past nine months when our halt seemed like an eternity and I could not imagine it truly ending.   This time I do not feel like I am looking into oblivion, and for that I am very grateful – and I am still very grateful for John’s heart that makes that possible.

I am sitting in Duke Clinic as John gets a PICC put in so that he can go home on an IV medication.  For over a month now, he has been sick.  We have not known what was wrong.  First we thought a cold and didn’t think much about it.  Then we thought it was strep throat and went to our primary care doctor.  It wasn’t strep throat.  Next we thought it was Mono and went back to our primary care doctor.  It wasn’t Mono. Just this week his bloodwork from his monthly biopsy showed that the virus John’s new heart was exposed to has decided to show it’s ugly face, and it is active.

It feels good to know what the problem is and even better that there is not any immediate concern.  John’s doctors told us that at about the six month mark this virus likes to remind its host that it’s still around.  Like we needed a reminder.  We have a lot of reminders from the past valley in our lives.  John will be on an IV medication for a few weeks, and then will hopefully be better than ever as he has been the last several months.

Our nights and weekends are once again spent nurturing John’s body instead of doing things we enjoy.  The daily struggles we experienced last spring have resurfaced.  The feelings of defeat and exhasution have returned.

Honestly John is not anywhere close to as sick as he was last spring when his sick heart was still trying to sustain him, but for me I think just the taste of those days has left me more irritated, frustrated, and concerned than I even was back then.  Back then I didn’t know what to expect.  I didn’t know what was going to happen next or how bad it could be.  I didn’t know how good it could be either.  I just lived the experience, like on adrenaline, not knowing what was behind me or ahead of me.

Now I know, and in many ways it is even harder to rest in God’s all-knowing peace and provision.  Now I want to just throw up my hands and say, “You’ve got to be kidding me!  Enough!  When is enough!”  I got a taste of  “the good life”, and I don’t want to go back.

When in reality the good life is still now, and the good life was back then. 

Today I have John.  We have a future. 

Back then I had John.  And we had a future. 

“For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.” Jeremiah 29:11 (NLT)

This is just proof, as we were told, that a heart transplant is not a cure.  It’s just a better way to manage a life that will sometimes be filled with health and sometimes will not – just like all of our lives.  I don’t know why I am surprised by this every time something happens in my life that I don’t like – like I was blindsided for the first time and never expected to experience any more days of uncertainty.  Jesus specifically says, “Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.” John 16:33 (NLT)  He says “here of earth”.  I will be here on earth until I am in Heaven with Him, so every day has the potentil to be a day that my life halts.  He also says, “MANY trials and sorrows.”  So I will never be completely finished with my trials and sorrows until I am with Him.

My test is to relish in these times of halt and remain faithful in thanksgiving that God is the same as He was last summer, when He held me tight and allowed me to experience His peace.  These are the times when I get to hold on tight once again, and just halt, so that He can show me that He is still here, His peace is still available, and He will provide for me everything I need.