Heartstrings

A number of weeks ago now, I had the awesome opportunity to attend my 20 year College Reunion.  It was great on so many levels, but mostly because I saw friends whom I loved and cherished 20 years ago, almost as much as I do now.  For many it was instant reconnection; where did the 20 years go since we were in this sacred academic place?  It truly seemed like it was just yesterday (ok, maybe last year) that we walked, capped and gowned, to receive our diplomas as newly crowned graduates of such an astute institution as Ontario Bible College (now Tyndale College & Seminary...so much better in the good ol' days!!!)  We reminisced about fun times, all the things we did that we can't believe we even dreamed of doing, and now that many of us are parents, we hope and pray our own kids never do. (HA!) We laughed together, and we even shed some tears together within the span of the few hours we were together.  The strings of the heart...heartstrings...connecting, bonding, loving.

We graduated thinking we had lived life.  We meet again 20 years later and we realize the life we thought we had "lived" then was merely a stepping stone to the life we had carried on to live in the next 20 years.  Births, deaths, marriages, separations, relocations, and graduations...that is real life.  Joy and sadness, wonder and disaster, successes and failures...this is real life.  (Chances are, 20 years from now, we will look back and think the same thing!) Heartstrings...connecting, loving, bonding.

"Sorry for the tears," says one friend as she recounts how the last 20 years were not what she had expected, or wanted, for her life.  "That's OK.  That is your life, that is real.  What you lived is real and what you are feeling is real."  A wise answer from an even wiser friend.  Heartstrings...loving.

As I talked about our journey through Andrew's illness and recovery, I watched a dear friend's eyes well with tears and realized she was mirroring my own eyes.  She had heard vaguely of Andrew's story through her brother-in-law who was a pastor out west in our same denomination.  A reminder of the breadth of love and support for our family, and a stark reminder of how much I missed her!  Heartstrings...bonding.

One friend was telling to me how much she misses her son who has now moved to university for the first time.  "I got through the first day of high school. OK, good, that one is done.  But now he's at university and I miss him so much!"  She finished this thought wondering if it will ever be easy, the distance, the separation, the not having him around the house every day.  Later that evening, I was talking with my Mom who was telling me that my brother and his family would be moving to the other side of the world sooner than anticipated.  And I watched her fight back the tears.  40 years later, and her mother's heartstrings are still being stretched.  It is still hard.  It still hurts.  So, no, my dear OBC friend, I don't think it gets any easier.  Heartstrings...stretching....connecting.

I am so thankful for each person I spoke with that day.  Each one holds a little piece of my heart.  The bonds that were formed so many years ago are the bonds that hold us together even now.  Maybe even a little bit stronger and a little bit wiser than 20 years ago. They are life's heartstrings - those things that keep us attached when we are distant, provide love when we are lonely, and hope when we are discouraged.  They are what helps us to continue to laugh and cry together, even 20 years later.  Our heartstrings are what keep us connected even when time and distance separate us.

And my brother and his family who are moving to the other side of the world...that "sooner than anticipated date" is now tomorrow, and I feel like my heart is being ripped out.  (That will be the topic of another post because I can't go there right now!)

Heartstrings...connecting, loving, bonding us to each other and to a God who truly loves us more than we deserve and whose heart is overwhelmingly gracious.   I am blessed beyond belief by the heartstrings of lifelong friends.  You know who you are and I love you all very much.  Thank you for shaping my heart and for teaching me how to love.  There are some bonds grow stronger with time. I'm looking forward to the next 20 years.

For that day and every day since...

I knew this day was coming.  In fact for many days, weeks, months...I knew it was coming.  Odd how special "anniversary" dates are seared in our minds.  When I think back, I can feel, taste, and smell that day one year ago.  But I guess that is why these dates are imprinted in our minds, because all five of our senses remember it too.  Like it was yesterday.  I received a text from my husband at 10:30 this morning, while I was teaching.  It read, "A year ago at this moment we were holding hands and crying.  I was asking God to give me one more day with you.  For that day and every day since - I'm so glad he said 'Yes'".  Bye-bye lesson plan, Hello silent reading.  Just kidding...on with the Science experiment we went!! (Using muscular force to explode grapes was just way too much fun!)

But it is true.  One year ago this morning, Andrew and I were holding hands and crying, waiting for a surgery we hoped and trusted would bring an eventual end to the symptoms that had become everyday life living with Cushing's Disease.  He, waiting with the keen wisdom of a dying patient who sensed better than the rest of us the weight and struggle that was to come and me, with the smiling optimism of a hopeful wife just wanting her husband back.  Stay positive, shoulder the sadness, carry the burden of fear, he will be home in 3 days and well on the road to recovery.  I can remember wishing he wasn't so fearful of the surgery because it was the surgery that was going to make him better.  I would tell myself that this "irrational" fear was part of what we had been dealing with for years because of Cushing's Disease, and this too, would eventually all be gone.  I don't think that at all anymore.  He was fearful because there was much to be afraid of.  I just didn't know it yet, but he did.  It was me who had the irrational emotions.  He at least, seemed to be in touch with his.  I was pushing mine down, trying to be positive; there was no fear inside me, only hope.  I was determined that hope would spring eternal out of this supportive wife and mother.  "Perfect loves casts out fear", so I will love him perfectly (humanly impossible) and there will be no fear (hmmm...).  If I show fear then everyone, including myself - and especially my kids - will know how bad it really is. 

Hours later, out walks the doctor.  "Everything went as well as expected.  I am 99.9% sure we got all the tumour.  I took a layer of good cells too, to be sure, but his pituitary gland remained in tact.  It all went well.  Everything looks good.  He is in recovery right now."  Good.  All is good.  Thank you Lord. "All things work together for the good of those who love God, who are called according to his purpose" (Rom 8:28).  That's what we are promised right?  So everything will be good.  Good.

The roller coaster of the next weeks brought me to my knees more than once.  It brought our families to their knees.  It brought our communities to their knees.  We were loved on by people we didn't even know.  We were surrounded by angels and armies unseen, to be sure.  Complications.  That's what it could be called. Complications from surgery.  A massive pulmonary embolism straddling both arteries at the heart.  The heart.  His heart.  The centre of his life.  A blood clot blocking the flow of life giving blood and oxygen to his heart, to his life.  To our life.  To my life.  To life.

A life that would never be the same again.  Not because of death, but because of a life that conquered death.  A life and a love that overcame death, produced a miracle, and catapulted us into His grace.  Not that we are new to His grace.  Far from it; we are lavished in it each day. We are washed in it. I've been doing laundry as I write this.  I could think of myself as one dirty sock getting washed from the dirt, grime, and stink of everyday use.  Getting soaked, tumbled, twisted, turned, churned, spun faster than my brain can take, rinsed and spun again.  All to get clean.  All to wash the dirt away.  Just like the everyday dirt that Grace washes away.  What a gift.  We might not like it in the midst of the twists and tumbles, but clean is aways good.  Grace is always good.  Good. "All things work together for the good of those who love God, and who are called according to his purpose" (Rom 8:28).  That is what we are promised.  And it is good.

Arriving at Disney World, July 2013

"For that day, and every day since, I'm thankful he said 'Yes'."  

Me too, my love.  Me too.