We are taking prisoners of every thought, every emotion, and subduing them into obedience to the Anointed One. 2 Corinthians 10:3-5 Voice
It had been such a tough week. I had taken my husband, Bill, to the emergency room because, despite the swallowing therapy, he was unable to even swallow water. He was severely dehydrated and weak. It was determined that he needed to have a feeding tube put in his stomach. It was a simple procedure and in theory we should have been able to go home within a couple of days. That didn’t happen. They kept giving him breathing treatments that didn’t seem to work. They tried twice to do the surgery and every time they had him lay down on the operating table he couldn’t breathe. Instead of getting better, he kept getting worse. After a week in the hospital and staying very close to my husband’s bedside I decided to take a break. Instead of eating hospital cafeteria food one more time I went to a local diner. That’s when I got the call that he had been transferred to ICU. I hurriedly paid the bill and went to my car.
I laid my head on the steering wheel and cried, “Oh God, how much more are we going to have to go through?” Fear gripped my heart. What if he died? What shape was he going to be in if he left the hospital? Why was my wonderful husband going through this? On the drive back to the hospital I cried out to God for strength and courage. (I’ll share the rest of the story in the next blog)
If you are a caregiver, you have a front row seat to see and experience suffering. Why do good people have to suffer? You can begin to feel angry at God and doubt His goodness in Your life. You can lose faith and even your hope. Many fear to express what they are feeling because they are afraid that others will judge them harshly so they bottle it all up. Even worse, we try to hide our feelings from God – as if that works, right?
Hope Tools
Quiet your thoughts
When facing a crisis, our thoughts can race ahead with the worst possible scenarios. This is especially true when facing medical emergencies. Medical professionals want to prepare use for the worst and it can cause our fears to increase and grow. It’s important to keep breathing and to focus on what you’re feeling. Capture your thoughts and see what you are believing. At the root of my anxiety was the fear that I would not be able to care for my husband or that I would not make it alone if he died.
Face your fears
Once I put words around what I feared most I could ask God for His perspective in it all. I may know what the Bible says and the answer everyone expects me to give. Intellectual knowledge is not going to replace the fear. Only perfect love can replace my fear and that love can only come from God. Express what you are fearing to the Lord and ask Him for perspective. “Lord, I am so scared. I don’t know what I’ll do if Bill dies. I don’t think I have what it takes to be his nurse. What do you want me to know?”
Receive peace
I didn’t hear audible words but I had a mental picture of Jesus standing at the head of Bills bed. He was stroking his head just like I used to do with our children when they were babies and didn’t want to go to sleep. I felt peace. The days ahead continued to be rough yet I knew the Lord was with us every step of the way.
Prayer
Thank You Lord for your presence even when I don’t feel You are there. I realize now that my fear kept me from sensing your closeness and care for me when I needed it most. I quiet my heart before You and confess my need of You. I bring these anxious thoughts and emotions to You and ask You to replace them with Your love, peace and hope. I cannot manufacture this so I will stop trying so hard to be brave. Instead, I will lean into your all-sufficiency. I ask You to saturate my thoughts with hope. In Jesus’ Name. Amen.
Author, speaker, corporate trainer, ordained minister and Hope Catalyst, Karen Sebastian enjoys sharing her rich life experiences with others – engaging them in adventurous discoveries of the beauty of hope in a dark, cloudy world.
You may order Karen’s latest book, The Power of Hope in Mourning here.
