By the numbers
2,285
13,969
19
I've never claimed to be a math person. In fact, in college, I took geology class instead of calculus. I memorized the names and properties of 100 different rocks in order to avoid taking an actual math class. Lately, I have been thinking a lot about certain numbers. Andrew and I were together as a couple on this Earth for 2,285 days. There were moments where that seemed like forever, and, lately, moments where it feels like nothing at all. Certainly not as long as I had hoped. Psalm 139:14 says, "You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day passed." My feeble mind struggles to comprehend time as God sees it. As difficult as it is for me to understand, God knew that first day I met Andrew that he would leave us on November 15, 2019. I was only ever meant to have 2,285 days with Andrew this side of Heaven. While there is pain in this knowledge, there is also comfort. Yes, God knew that Andrew would leave me a single mother with two young children at age 38. But God also knows how this story ends. He knows the ways he will provide for us, the people he will put in our paths, and the ways that he will be glorified in all of this. He's got this. It's a done deal. There are no "what if's" in God's world. I'm the one who gets surprised, confused, and fearful. Not God.
From that first day that Andrew was in the coma, I've been mulling over two stories from the Gospels: Jesus calms the storm, and Jesus walks on water. In Mark 4, after ministering to people, Jesus's disciples decide to take their boat to the other side of the lake. Jesus, meanwhile, is in the boat, napping. A huge storm comes up; so huge that the disciples were terrified that the boat was going to sink. Jesus? Still napping. Such a guy. Finally, the disciples woke him up. They essentially ask Jesus how he can sleep at a time like this. Doesn't he see they are all going to die? What does Jesus do? He stands up, looks out to the storm, and tells it to be quiet. No yelling, no shouting, no begging, no pleading, no threatening. Nope. He stands up, and according to the Bible, rebukes the storm. I looked up the word rebuke, and it means "to express sharp disapproval or criticism, particularly for one's actions." So, essentially Jesus stood up, looked at the storm, gave it a "teacher stare" and says, "Be quiet." AND IT HAPPENS. If ever there was a moment for a Biblical mic drop. Meanwhile, the disciples are standing there open-mouthed, trying to understand what just happened. More importantly, they are trying to figure out who is this guy who first sleeps through a torrent of a storm, then casually stands up and just TELLS the storm to, you know, stop...AND IT STOPS?!?!?!? And what does Jesus say? He says, "Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?" (Mark 4:40)
A while later, the disciples are on a boat, again, and Jesus is off alone, on shore, praying. Sometime after midnight, the boat has drifted quite a ways into the lake. Traditionally, this would create a dilemma for the person on shore. However, when you're Jesus, having your transportation and disciples in the middle of a lake while you are on shore means you take a little walk. On top of the water. No biggie. Just going for a walk ON THE WATER. Lest you think this is normal, the disciples thought he was a ghost. Legitimately. Mistook JESUS for a GHOST. Peter, not known for keeping his thoughts to himself, calls out to Jesus and says, hey, just to prove you aren't a ghost, tell ME to come out into the water. (Side note: if I needed yet ANOTHER reason why I'm not God? I would have totally played up the ghost angle for a while longer...) Jesus commands Peter to walk out to him, and he does. Peter walks on water. Pretty cool, right? But, Peter looks down. Doesn't he know you NEVER look down? Anyway, Peter looks down, gets scared (I mean, he IS walking on TOP of the water in the middle of the night) and he starts to sink. Jesus grabs his hand, pulls him up, and says, "You of little faith, why did you doubt?" (Matthew 14:31)
I would get to the ICU early, close to 8:30am, and that would be my time with Andrew. I would talk to him, I would play music, but most of the time I would sit there. And I would think. A lot. I always think a lot. Too much, some would say. But I would look at the man I loved, hooked up to all those machines and tubes, and I would think about those two stories from the Bible. Where was Jesus during the storm? He was sleeping. He wasn't concerned. He wasn't afraid. He wasn't even surprised. He knew that he had the power to calm the storm. He had the ability to tell the waves to stop, and they would stop. The disciples thought Jesus didn't care. It wasn't that he didn't know or care that a storm was raging. Jesus was fully aware of what was going on; but he was also fully aware that the storm is temporary, and the storm is not stronger than God. The storm must obey God. And God can and will calm the storm. And Jesus didn't turn around and say, ok, wasn't THAT awesome! Or, if you think that's cool...just wait until they kill me! No, he looked at them and asked why they had so little faith.
In the story of Jesus walking on water, I kept thinking about Peter. Yes, Jesus commanded him to come out on the water. But, think about Peter for a second. He still had to get up and step. It's one thing for Jesus to say, sure, come for a walk. Even if it is JESUS telling you to get up and walk on water, he isn't supernaturally picking you up and moving your body onto the water for you. No, Peter still had to stand up and climb out of the boat. He had to take the step. A step that the laws of physics, and basic common sense tells him will not end well for him. So often, I have focused on the part of the story where Peter looks down. He looks down, and realizes what he is doing, and he gets scared. Peter is so human. What I kept focusing on in that ICU was the fact that Peter got out of the boat. He left the safety of the boat, and set out to meet Jesus in the most unlikely of ways. Peter had absolutely no reason to believe that he wasn't about to go for a swim, except for the fact that Jesus told him to climb out of the boat. So he did. He climbed out of the boat. That single step; that step kept coming back to me. Would I have been able to take that step? I don't picture Peter standing up, taking a flying leap, and then moonwalking across the water. No, I picture Peter gingerly placing a foot outside the boat, stepping, putting a little weight, then a little more, and finally, lifting the other foot off the boat and putting all his weight on the one foot standing on top of the water. Waiting. Marveling. Moving. He took the step. He walked. And when Jesus reached out his hand to steady him, he didn't say, wasn't that cool? Aren't you glad you got out of that boat? No, once again, Jesus asked him why he had so little faith.
Of the 13,969 days my husband was alive, by his own estimation, he spent half of those days doubting his salvation. Andrew suffered from misdiagnosed mental illness much of his adult life. We only discovered his true illness a week before he collapsed: severe OCD. Andrew's manifestation of OCD is known as "Pure O". What this means is, his brain obsessed. Constantly. From the moment he woke up, to the moment he finally fell asleep, his brain would be a never-ending hamster wheel of obsessive thoughts. The primary obsession centered around whether or not he was truly "saved". For Evangelical Christians, which is what we are, being "saved" means that one has not only accepted the free gift of salvation given by the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, but also that one has surrendered his/her life, will, and ways to Christ; living (to the best of our human ability) as the Bible instructs us to. Ironically, the only person who doubted Andrew's salvation was Andrew. Sitting there, day after day, watching Andrew's earthsuit become less and less "Andrew" and more and more just a body, I would think about these two stories. I would think about Jesus telling the storm to stop. About Peter taking that step. Jesus's response to both events. What did all this mean for me, my situation, for my children?
The last 19 days for me have been a storm. I am still in the storm. Today is Thanksgiving, and I could list three dozen things I'm thankful for. I could also list three dozen times I have broken down in tears over the last 19 days...and those would just be the three dozen times I totally didn't think would bring me to tears. I am exhausted, I'm raw, I'm numb, I'm tender, I'm a hundred different adjectives. What those stories from the Bible tell me is, first and foremost, Jesus is 100% capable of calming my storm with a look, let alone a word. And, someday, he will calm my storm. He is already giving me moments of calm. While I'm waiting for him to calm my storm, he's asking me to get out of the boat. He's asking me to take a step of faith and trust him. He'll show me a miracle, but I have to get out of the boat. That part is mine. What he does is give me people to help propel me out of the boat, and to steady me when I'm not quite sure I can keep taking that step.
So, what am I singing? I'm still about the numbers tonight: 10,000 Reasons
13,969
19
I've never claimed to be a math person. In fact, in college, I took geology class instead of calculus. I memorized the names and properties of 100 different rocks in order to avoid taking an actual math class. Lately, I have been thinking a lot about certain numbers. Andrew and I were together as a couple on this Earth for 2,285 days. There were moments where that seemed like forever, and, lately, moments where it feels like nothing at all. Certainly not as long as I had hoped. Psalm 139:14 says, "You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day passed." My feeble mind struggles to comprehend time as God sees it. As difficult as it is for me to understand, God knew that first day I met Andrew that he would leave us on November 15, 2019. I was only ever meant to have 2,285 days with Andrew this side of Heaven. While there is pain in this knowledge, there is also comfort. Yes, God knew that Andrew would leave me a single mother with two young children at age 38. But God also knows how this story ends. He knows the ways he will provide for us, the people he will put in our paths, and the ways that he will be glorified in all of this. He's got this. It's a done deal. There are no "what if's" in God's world. I'm the one who gets surprised, confused, and fearful. Not God.
From that first day that Andrew was in the coma, I've been mulling over two stories from the Gospels: Jesus calms the storm, and Jesus walks on water. In Mark 4, after ministering to people, Jesus's disciples decide to take their boat to the other side of the lake. Jesus, meanwhile, is in the boat, napping. A huge storm comes up; so huge that the disciples were terrified that the boat was going to sink. Jesus? Still napping. Such a guy. Finally, the disciples woke him up. They essentially ask Jesus how he can sleep at a time like this. Doesn't he see they are all going to die? What does Jesus do? He stands up, looks out to the storm, and tells it to be quiet. No yelling, no shouting, no begging, no pleading, no threatening. Nope. He stands up, and according to the Bible, rebukes the storm. I looked up the word rebuke, and it means "to express sharp disapproval or criticism, particularly for one's actions." So, essentially Jesus stood up, looked at the storm, gave it a "teacher stare" and says, "Be quiet." AND IT HAPPENS. If ever there was a moment for a Biblical mic drop. Meanwhile, the disciples are standing there open-mouthed, trying to understand what just happened. More importantly, they are trying to figure out who is this guy who first sleeps through a torrent of a storm, then casually stands up and just TELLS the storm to, you know, stop...AND IT STOPS?!?!?!? And what does Jesus say? He says, "Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?" (Mark 4:40)
A while later, the disciples are on a boat, again, and Jesus is off alone, on shore, praying. Sometime after midnight, the boat has drifted quite a ways into the lake. Traditionally, this would create a dilemma for the person on shore. However, when you're Jesus, having your transportation and disciples in the middle of a lake while you are on shore means you take a little walk. On top of the water. No biggie. Just going for a walk ON THE WATER. Lest you think this is normal, the disciples thought he was a ghost. Legitimately. Mistook JESUS for a GHOST. Peter, not known for keeping his thoughts to himself, calls out to Jesus and says, hey, just to prove you aren't a ghost, tell ME to come out into the water. (Side note: if I needed yet ANOTHER reason why I'm not God? I would have totally played up the ghost angle for a while longer...) Jesus commands Peter to walk out to him, and he does. Peter walks on water. Pretty cool, right? But, Peter looks down. Doesn't he know you NEVER look down? Anyway, Peter looks down, gets scared (I mean, he IS walking on TOP of the water in the middle of the night) and he starts to sink. Jesus grabs his hand, pulls him up, and says, "You of little faith, why did you doubt?" (Matthew 14:31)
I would get to the ICU early, close to 8:30am, and that would be my time with Andrew. I would talk to him, I would play music, but most of the time I would sit there. And I would think. A lot. I always think a lot. Too much, some would say. But I would look at the man I loved, hooked up to all those machines and tubes, and I would think about those two stories from the Bible. Where was Jesus during the storm? He was sleeping. He wasn't concerned. He wasn't afraid. He wasn't even surprised. He knew that he had the power to calm the storm. He had the ability to tell the waves to stop, and they would stop. The disciples thought Jesus didn't care. It wasn't that he didn't know or care that a storm was raging. Jesus was fully aware of what was going on; but he was also fully aware that the storm is temporary, and the storm is not stronger than God. The storm must obey God. And God can and will calm the storm. And Jesus didn't turn around and say, ok, wasn't THAT awesome! Or, if you think that's cool...just wait until they kill me! No, he looked at them and asked why they had so little faith.
In the story of Jesus walking on water, I kept thinking about Peter. Yes, Jesus commanded him to come out on the water. But, think about Peter for a second. He still had to get up and step. It's one thing for Jesus to say, sure, come for a walk. Even if it is JESUS telling you to get up and walk on water, he isn't supernaturally picking you up and moving your body onto the water for you. No, Peter still had to stand up and climb out of the boat. He had to take the step. A step that the laws of physics, and basic common sense tells him will not end well for him. So often, I have focused on the part of the story where Peter looks down. He looks down, and realizes what he is doing, and he gets scared. Peter is so human. What I kept focusing on in that ICU was the fact that Peter got out of the boat. He left the safety of the boat, and set out to meet Jesus in the most unlikely of ways. Peter had absolutely no reason to believe that he wasn't about to go for a swim, except for the fact that Jesus told him to climb out of the boat. So he did. He climbed out of the boat. That single step; that step kept coming back to me. Would I have been able to take that step? I don't picture Peter standing up, taking a flying leap, and then moonwalking across the water. No, I picture Peter gingerly placing a foot outside the boat, stepping, putting a little weight, then a little more, and finally, lifting the other foot off the boat and putting all his weight on the one foot standing on top of the water. Waiting. Marveling. Moving. He took the step. He walked. And when Jesus reached out his hand to steady him, he didn't say, wasn't that cool? Aren't you glad you got out of that boat? No, once again, Jesus asked him why he had so little faith.
Of the 13,969 days my husband was alive, by his own estimation, he spent half of those days doubting his salvation. Andrew suffered from misdiagnosed mental illness much of his adult life. We only discovered his true illness a week before he collapsed: severe OCD. Andrew's manifestation of OCD is known as "Pure O". What this means is, his brain obsessed. Constantly. From the moment he woke up, to the moment he finally fell asleep, his brain would be a never-ending hamster wheel of obsessive thoughts. The primary obsession centered around whether or not he was truly "saved". For Evangelical Christians, which is what we are, being "saved" means that one has not only accepted the free gift of salvation given by the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, but also that one has surrendered his/her life, will, and ways to Christ; living (to the best of our human ability) as the Bible instructs us to. Ironically, the only person who doubted Andrew's salvation was Andrew. Sitting there, day after day, watching Andrew's earthsuit become less and less "Andrew" and more and more just a body, I would think about these two stories. I would think about Jesus telling the storm to stop. About Peter taking that step. Jesus's response to both events. What did all this mean for me, my situation, for my children?
The last 19 days for me have been a storm. I am still in the storm. Today is Thanksgiving, and I could list three dozen things I'm thankful for. I could also list three dozen times I have broken down in tears over the last 19 days...and those would just be the three dozen times I totally didn't think would bring me to tears. I am exhausted, I'm raw, I'm numb, I'm tender, I'm a hundred different adjectives. What those stories from the Bible tell me is, first and foremost, Jesus is 100% capable of calming my storm with a look, let alone a word. And, someday, he will calm my storm. He is already giving me moments of calm. While I'm waiting for him to calm my storm, he's asking me to get out of the boat. He's asking me to take a step of faith and trust him. He'll show me a miracle, but I have to get out of the boat. That part is mine. What he does is give me people to help propel me out of the boat, and to steady me when I'm not quite sure I can keep taking that step.
So, what am I singing? I'm still about the numbers tonight: 10,000 Reasons
"Bless the Lord oh my soul
Oh my soul
Worship His Holy name
Sing like never before
Oh my soul
I'll worship Your Holy name
Oh my soul
Worship His Holy name
Sing like never before
Oh my soul
I'll worship Your Holy name
The sun comes up
It's a new day dawning
It's time to sing Your song again
Whatever may pass
And whatever lies before me
Let me be singing
When the evening comes
It's a new day dawning
It's time to sing Your song again
Whatever may pass
And whatever lies before me
Let me be singing
When the evening comes
Bless the Lord oh my soul
Oh my soul
Worship His Holy name
Sing like never before
Oh my soul
I'll worship Your Holy name
Oh my soul
Worship His Holy name
Sing like never before
Oh my soul
I'll worship Your Holy name
You're rich in love
And You're slow to anger
Your name is great
And Your heart is kind
For all Your goodness
I will keep on singing
Ten thousand reasons
For my heart to find
And You're slow to anger
Your name is great
And Your heart is kind
For all Your goodness
I will keep on singing
Ten thousand reasons
For my heart to find
Bless the Lord oh my soul
Oh my soul
Worship His Holy name
Sing like never before
Oh my soul
I'll worship Your Holy name
Bless You Lord
Oh my soul
Worship His Holy name
Sing like never before
Oh my soul
I'll worship Your Holy name
Bless You Lord
And on that day
When my strength is failing
The end draws near
And my time has come
Still my soul will
Sing Your praise unending
Ten thousand years
And then forevermore
Forevermore
When my strength is failing
The end draws near
And my time has come
Still my soul will
Sing Your praise unending
Ten thousand years
And then forevermore
Forevermore
💗
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