Be Still

It is exactly nine days before the three year anniversary of my sister's open heart surgery.

A little back story, my sister, Cori, went into the hospital October 15 with chest pains. We didn't think much of it (and actually didn't want to take her at 11:00pm at night, but we did). The doctors did a few tests and sent her home with intense antacids and advice to avoid greasy foods for a while. Still the chest pain persisted.

That was Friday. Come Monday, the doctors had a different diagnosis.

I had class/work that morning, so I couldn't stay home to see that my mom came home to pick her up to take her back to the hospital. I just remember walking out the front door in a rush after trying to situate my sister, and thinking to myself both how I loathed being late (considering I thought my sister was only having stomach issues), and how I hoped she would get to feeling better soon. That would be the last time I would see my sister before her surgery.

After class and work, around 1:30pm, I called my mom to tell her I was going to the store, and to see if she needed anything. The conversation went as follows:

Me: "Hey Mom, I'm running to the store. Would you like me to get you anything?"
Mom: "Are you home?"
Me: "Yeah, why?"
Mom: "Okay... They did some tests and now they are rushing Cori to heart surgery."
Me: "..... Are you are okay?"

My mom broke down in tears which took my spot to be the one crying over the news of my sister being near death.

"I'll be right over. Love you!" I hung up and dropped to the floor. I was crunched up in a ball on my knees crying out to God for help, mercy, and salvation for my sister. I couldn't recollect everything going on around me. In fact, I was surprised that I thought about what I was wearing. That day I was wearing a new outfit that I have yet to wear again. It wasn't my style, and if I was going to the hospital, I was going to be comfy. I grabbed a hoodie and boots and cried a little more before running out the door. I somehow made it downtown without a scratch on my car. I walked into the hospital, asked for directions to the waiting room, and found my mom. The next few hours, we cried off and on together, and waited for any news on my sister.

I ended up running home sometime after a half hour or so to grab a few items for my family and by then two friends of mine had come to pick me up and drive me to the hospital and gather around me for support. Looking back, it was such a blessing to have them near me to give me that mindset that God was in control, my family would get through this either way the surgery went, and most importantly to stay sane for the sake of all three of us who were in the waiting room waiting to hear about our sister, daughter, or friend.

By 6:00pm, the surgeon came out. My sister was in the ICU recovering.

The doctor took us to a small room where he told us about the repercussions that could come from this surgery my sister had just had. She had suffered a tear in her aorta valve. She shouldn't have been alive for four days. Most people die instantly or within a few hours. A few famous cases of those who have suffered from it are Lucille Ball and John Ritter. My sister was a miracle.

We walked to the room she was in and found her asleep. The nurse told us she would probably be asleep for a little while longer and that we had time to go home and grab a few items for her. My dad took his car that he had driven from St. Louis to get to the hospital while I rode with my mom in our red mini van. We sat in a stale silence with few words spoken. I kept thinking to myself I wish I could comfort her. She had just faced a heart attack herself.

Passing through the side road that would have taken me straight to the grocery store I was going to go to before I knew about Cori's surgery, we both broke down. My mom stopped the car, and cried out, "We almost lost my girl."

Even now I still get tears from seeing my mom cry. Whenever I see my mom or any guy cry, I see more of a vunerability than if a girlfriend of mine were crying right in front of me. I shared in the tears with her that moment, and the weeks ahead whenever we needed a few minutes to cry over the lost memory of a carefree life.

To keep from dragging this whole account of my sister's surgery and recovery, I will say this: it took almost a year for her to recover. In fact, she is still recovering. During the recovery process in the hospital, she relearned how to walk, swallow, and talk. Outside the hospital, it stayed about the same. Today she is stronger than that day she woke from her surgery, but she is strong and is an encouragement to see what persistence can do.

During this time in our lives, for over a year, I started to better understand what God meant in Psalm 46:10:

“Be still, and know that I am God.
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth!”

I laid down on the floor in my bedroom (on my knees), asking Him for help during that time in my life. I wanted to be a testimony for others to see how good God was in during that time in my life, as well as see to it that I drew closer to God, and not away. I needed Him more during that time in my life, and out of it came peace. From the moment I heard the news of my sister's surgery, I cried, but I also found peace as I laid down the circumstance to God. It wasn't in my control, but in His hands. He saw to it to grow not only me, but to see to it that my sister may see Him. Listen, I don't want for one second you to think that He had to change her physically to get to her, but He did. A little over a year after her surgery, my sister accepted Christ as her Savior. Praise God!

Looking back, I see how it can be said God has conquered death. Even if Cori had not made it, if she were saved at the time during her surgery, her life would have still be good. Either way, she would have life. Even though she made it, and was saved later, she has a better life waiting for her in heaven. I do too. And so are those who have accepted Christ as the only way to heaven. Praise the Lord for that good news!

His comfort. His joy. His peace. His hand holding mine. All during times of struggles we can find strength in Him.

May I suggest that you read Psalm 46 sometime, and ask God to show you in your life how He is your refuge and strength? How you can be still and know Him to a different degree of love and comfort? It is all the more worth it when we have our minds set on Him and not our own plans. Trust me. I have experienced His shifting of my plans so many times before, and I have yet to be disappointed in the long run.