Thursday, July 28, 2011

Conversations (Thoughts on love, humility, God, heart attacks and the I.C.U.)

The night of the heart attack...
I haven't cried like that in a long time. 
My heart ached. 
My cry was almost so deep that it sounded unfamiliar. 
I clutched his hand, stuck with I.V.'s.
I watched his vital signs on a black screen.
It's gonna be okay, baby. It's gonna be okay.
Don't cry...

The next morning...
His eyes had more of their usual glow.
That green tint in his skin was gone.
He smiled. 
Hi Daddy...
we had a moment when it was just him and I...
Daddy... that house we're trying to sell... it's gonna sell... 
and everything is gonna be okay. And it doesn't matter anymore... nothing really matters... 
but we've got to get all of that stress out of your life Daddy...

And Daddy?
Yes, Honey?
Daddy? Me and God... we're gonna be okay. Tears.
I know it's been hard to see me go through this... where I questioned all that God is and all that I am for the past few years... 
But I'm gonna be okay... okay? 
And me and God.... we're gonna be okay... okay? 
I squeezed his hand.
I know, Baby. 
And Daddy... it's just so hard to talk to you about it Daddy...
I know, Baby. I know. Cause it's your journey... and only you know the aches in your heart. And only you know your questions.

Daddy? I'm sorry for any stress I've caused. 
Honey, it's okay. You didn't, Baby. 
I love you, Daddy. 
I love you, Honey.
I left his I.C.U. room thinking about his life. All the ways he's given himself so that we could have a beautiful life. He's practically built a home for us. Given so much so that we could adopt our boys. Drove to my house one morning at 6:00am to love on a crying and exasperated daughter who never knew being a Mommy would be so hard. He just gives. And gives. He doesn't want us to be rich. He just wants us to have time to be with each other. He doesn't want us to have a big house... just a place that we can love and be loved. And while I sat in the waiting room... overhearing the quiet sobs of the woman sitting next to me... I just wished he knew the love that I held in my heart. A love for him that mere words could not hold. 

Driving back from the hospital...
I can't help but think that God was in this... I could feel something sacred in the midst of this... but...
But if you say that God was in this... That your Dad is still alive because of God...then where is God when the heart attack is fatal? Or the car crash? Or the cancer? 
I know... that's just it. To say that Dad lived through a heart attack because "of God" sounds arrogant, or at least, ignorant, of the suffering and death of others. But I can't help but feel thankful. 
I know. Me too.
Do you think that there is an energy... an energy that runs throughout the earth calling us all to a realm that is beyond what we see and hear and feel? And that, instead of "God" sitting high up in the universe somewhere controlling all things, that the current and energy of God runs through this earth... and we have to wake up to see it? And hear it? And feel it? It's a gentle current, loving and inviting. But it does not control? 
I like those words... Reverend Peter uses those words...
Babe... just think about Reverend Peter. He just lost his daughter-in-law to a fatal car crash last week. And he stood up in front of the church that very next Sunday and said... "I have to believe... that God's heart was the first to break." 
So much better than words such as, "It's just God's will..." 
And in that way... I do think that the energy of God was there with my Dad. It was there when he ran into his friend a week ago who told him about taking aspirin when he had had a heart attack. It was there when the birthday party was scheduled for Monday, and caused my Mom to stay home from a trip up north. It was there in the speed of the Doctor's hands and minds. It was there when my Dad knew it was time to stop working. It was there when he had clarity of mind that this was serious. There were so many things that could have happened but didn't. And I really believe that many people and places and things all were aligned with this "energy of God." 
But sometimes it doesn't happen like that. Sometimes life is taken too soon. 
I know. Reminds me of the scene in the movie "Avatar" when they bring the woman to the tree of souls... and everyone gathers around in prayer. And she is wounded badly. And the "energy" of "Ewa" couldn't heal her. It was too late. The way things "are" ... in the physical world... couldn't be reversed. 
And God's heart breaks. 
And God's heart breaks. 
There was a breeze that filled the car as we drove. And a vivid feeling of thanks filled my mind. And it made my heart beat. 
And my Dad's too.  


  1. Jenny, today is one of those days when reading your blog breaks my heart...and it's a good kind of "broken." Thank you for writing. I love you, my friend.

  2. You have given me the gift of some new things to ponder/consider on God, His love, and His involvement in our lives. Thank you.

  3. Trying to read this, tears welling up, ache in my chest, lump in my throat. You always do this to me. Get me like this. How do you do that? I need a good dose of you every single day. I love you.

  4. I am so glad your dad is okay. this post made me sad and happy all at the same time.

  5. Jenny you are SO strong. I am always beyond impressed with your way to express in words such a sad history with so much honesty and... with faith! And you made me cry and smile...

    ps: The mention of Avatar... count with me as one of them on the praying tree, praying that your dad will only get better and better!

    Much love!

  6. Jenny, thank you for this post. I can't even imagine what you've been through recently - and I'm SO thankful that your Dad is OK. Thank you for always being so open and honest. You are amazing.

  7. Jenny, this was such a sweet post. I am so sorry your dad had a heart attack, but so grateful he is still full of life. The conversation you recalled with your dad had me on the verge of tears. I know those moments that remain so special to you remain special to him as well. I hope we can see each other again soon, friend! :)

  8. After reading this, I couldn't restrain the tears that formed and fell down into my lap. So beautifully written and so intense. I like the way the Pastor described it as God's heart breaking - I agree that using that term is a much better way to put things.

    Sometimes I do believe that things happen so that God can make you see how important someone or something is. I've had my share of bad luck, misfortune and death, and instead of looking at it as punishment, I look at it as a way God uses to draw me closer to him.. to make me realize that I need him more than I think I do.

    Nevertheless, Thank God that your dad is doing fine. I feel as though I don't have to personally know you to pray for you, so I'll keep you guys in my prayers!

    Take Care!

  9. Jenny, this is beautiful. Now I want to hug you and your Dad. And my Dad, too.

  10. I am so happy your dad is okay. Your questions show your depth and seeking heart. The working out of our faith is sometimes a painful process...and there are many uncomfortable concepts that may never be possible to fully grasp.

    Your writing is honest and raw and moving...and I am blessed today to have read your words. Thank you for sharing your journey and may you have many, many more days to love on your daddy!

  11. Oh my God, Jenny.... there are tears streaming down my face right now. I don't even know what to say, except that this is so, so beautiful.

    YOUR HEART is beautiful. I relate to you and your questioning so, so much...