Josh’s life is held in the hands of God.
Yours is no exception.
The quality of Josh’s life is dependent upon high flow oxygen and a 24-hour a day pain pump.
The quality of my life is and will be dependent upon making every thought captive to the Truth of God and not my runaway imagination or mounting fears. I am not a worrier by nature. Josh, in true Josh form, tested this character trait early on in our life together when he had a small stroke at the age of 5. It really hasn’t ever let up. Will I trust God for today and tomorrow?
Josh’s current journey has kicked things up a few notches.
Death is really final.
It’s the sting that buries us when we die and it’s the sting that threatens to bury us when we’re the ones left to say goodbye.
The questions I wake up to each morning are these.
“Do I trust God?”
“Is he sovereign? Kind? Loving? Good?”
“Is his Word reliable? Trust worthy in every way?”
I have been working for months on surrender, as Josh’s medical condition deteriorated over the last year. Time. Tears. Triggers. Journaling.
I have come to a place, marked by moans and mercy, where I am ready to surrender my son. Here, I pray for the Glory of God. Here I find a peace that passes all understanding. Here there is unquenchable hope.
I am not, however, ready to watch Josh suffer.
The Hospice workers are painfully honest. They do not mince words. The description of the end for those in respiratory failure contain my greatest fears. If I go there, I am instantly crippled by consuming fear. I am not ready to watch Josh wrestle for every breath, attempting to do what he’s been primed to do since his borning cry, but will find in the end, an impossible task.
I tremble. I beg. I gasp.
The battle is fierce.
It is battle waged each hour on our hardest days.
Will I trust God to take Josh safely through the valley of the shadow of death?
Will I trust God to take me safely to this place where I will have to watch and listen?
I am under attack. David was, too, when the cries of his heart where captured in the form of a prayer and a song that is now ours through Psalm 56.
It was David’s prayer and declaration when the Philistines seized him in Gath. It is my prayer and declaration when fear seizes me in the quiet moments of my day.
My declaration began in verses 3-4a …
When I am afraid I will trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I will not be afraid.
Then my declaration spilled out into every corner of my heart as David’s psalm became my own.
Read the 14 verses in Psalm 56. Every one. Don’t miss a single word.
I have more to share. (Stay tuned in the days ahead.) His battle plan is unfolding.
The quality of life on these Front Porch Days depends on it.
I rest assured.
What is your plan for quality control these days? What promise or passage do you cling to?