As I sit here in the hospital watching Dan try to get comfortable enough to rest, I have lots on my mind.  Big, scary stuff.  The last 36 hours, words like “pulmonary embolism”, “blood clots”, “ct scans”, “echocargiograms”, ‘full code” and even ‘dropped dead on the porch’, have been my world.  I have become immersed in medication names and times and effects and side effects.  I have watched the man I love suffer and be in pain.  He asked me if it was easier to be in the bed or out of the bed.  Having gone through bed rest and 3 C-sections, I know a thing or two about hospital stays…much easier to be in the bed.  Much harder to see your loved one hurting.

The reality of what might have happened, how close we came to losing Dan is heavy, big, and scary.  I have tried to imagine what it would have been like to have him not wake up one day.  Have to tell the boys that Daddy wasn’t going to come home.  I can’t even begin to imagine that, but the reality is our days are finite.  They are already determined.  This truly is not our home.  I think we intuitively know that but to come face to face with it is something altogether different.

God has been at work these last few days and I see it in so many ways.  When Dan was in pain early Friday morning, we were trying to decide what to do.  Go to urgent care at 8 when they opened?  Our doctor whenever he could get in?  Or the ER?  Dan tried to sleep but decided around 330am to go to the ER.  That was a life saving decision.  As soon as he left, I prayed that God would bring the right doctor and give that person wisdom about what was going on.  After doing a chest X-ray and a bunch of other tests, Dr. Robertson nearly sent Dan home.  He is young, healthy, fit and the doctor figured it was most likely pleurisy, caused by bronchitis.  However, this particular doctor had a friend die not long ago from a pulmonary embolism and died on his front porch, instantly.  So Dr. Robertson was aware of the possibility and decided to do one last test.  That is when he found the clots.

Had he not been in the ER that night or decided not to do the CT scan, we never would have known.  This time Dan is out of the woods but we still don’t know what caused the clot in the first place nor where it was in his body.   This clot was a massive one and it had to pass through the parts of his heart.  Getting stuck in any one of those parts would have been a different ending to the story.  If something like this were to happen again, it may not turn out like it did.  It can happen without notice or warning and is often deadly.

So what to do with all that?  Dan and I were talking last night about what we are learning though this whole thing.  We are learning to trust, let go of control.  Learning to live in the moment.  Take the time to give the extra hug and smile.  Enjoy the days.  Know what our future holds.  Reevaluating what is truly important in life and making sure we know the One who holds us in His hand.

I encourage you to know Him too.  If you are searching for answers, He will show them to you.  If you are doubtful, He is big enough to handle those doubts.  Seek, God promises you will find.  Do some soul searching and do it now.   God is a God who answers prayers.  Dan is living proof of that.

Our lives are run and marked by dates.  We celebrate birthdays and anniversaries and first days of things and the end of things.

In the last seven weeks, our family of 5 has celebrated:  4 birthdays, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, and our anniversary.  That’s a lot of celebratin’!

My heart has loved each special occasion and the preparations that go into each event.  The problem is that there are dates that are not always fun to remember and we have those coming up this week too.

I always feel a little off around this time of year.  I think Dan and I have learned to be a little more loving, gentle, gracious and compassionate with each other.  It’s as if our hearts just know.  The scars that are there hurt a little more this time of year.

The first date coming up is Nathan’s birthday.  Here we get to love on and enjoy this adorable child and have a day all about him.  That is the fun part.  But somewhere in the recesses of my heart, I remember that I had two other sons born that day too.  One whom I never truly got to meet this side of heaven and one little person who was just as much alive as Nathan.  This little person we got to see in the isolette with an adorable hat on.  We got to pray for him and see his teeny footprints posted on the wall near his bed.  We got to hear the nurses call his name.  Eventually, we even held him in our arms.  And while I wouldn’t change anything and know that we wouldn’t have Caleb and Zachary if things were different, still my heart remembers.

Then comes the day when Matthew left our arms and went to be with Jesus.  A day that is so sad to think of from this worldly perspective but so joyful for him.  No more pain or sickness, just peace and joy and love.  My heart looks forward to the day when our family of seven will be fully together.

All of that to say that our lives are full of the joy and the sorrow.  The beginnings and the endings.  The times to laugh and the times to grieve.

Whatever you are remembering today, whatever you are feeling; whether you are grieving or laughing, filled with joy or sorrow, excited to begin or sad to see something end, know that you are not alone.  We are on this journey together and maybe there is someone who needs to hear your story.  Maybe there is someone who needs to share theirs.

May we remember together, listen intently, offer advice sparingly, love extravagantly.