Another Day with the Sheltons

"I've got to go after him - Aslan, I mean - the Lion. I must speak to him."

"Do you think we can?" said Polly, "I wouldn't dare."

"I've got to," said Digory. "It's about Mother. If anyone could give me something that would do her good, it would be him."

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But when he had said "Yes", he thought of his Mother, and he thought of the great hopes he had had, and how they were dying away, and a lump came in his throat and tears in his eyes, and he blurted out:

"But please, please - won't you - can't you give me something that will cure Mother?" Up till the he had been looking at the Lion's great feet and the huge claws on them; now, in his despair, he looked up at it's face. What he saw surprised him as much as anything in his whole life. For the tawny face was bent down near his own and (wonder of wonders) great shining tears stood in the Lion's eyes. They were such big, bright tears compared with Digory's own that for a moment he felt as if the Lion must really be sorrier about his Mother than he was himself.



Yesterday (Friday, Nov. 18, 2011) was a long day for many people. I had spent the night before in Tulsa with some of the Sheltons so that I could be there with them during the "wait" of surgery. Originally the surgery time was set for 10:00. They'd prep her about 9:15 and then the OR would come get her when they were ready. I got to go back with a couple other young ladies (Deidra and Rashell. Sorry girls, I'm a horrible spellerer) to see Sarah about 8:45AM. We made sure she knew she was a Facebook sensation, prayed with her, told her we loved her and that we would see again her later that day.

Out in the waiting room we soon got word that while the nurses were there prepping her to be rolled to surgery the head nurse had come in and stopped the process. She had just heard that they would not be able to take Sarah back for another hour or so. This was very rough on the family. To have that scary, dreaded, awfully anticipated moment finally there. That moment when they are about to take Sarah away. Take her back where family members can't go, where Mark and Jan couldn't hold her hand any longer, where they would have to put their faith completely in God and in the hospital staff to care for her. They have been waiting for this moment for almost 5 days and it was finally here. And then they were told, "No, not yet. You're going to have to wait some more."

The surgery was pushed back to noon, then about 11:15ish we heard, "probably going to be more like 1:30, maybe 3:00."

I tried to keep up with updates. I had a list of people I was texting, plus I tried to keep Facebook current... but it got hard. It got pretty dark in my head. You see throughout this week I've been fine as long as I'm processing numbers and facts.

Fact: "Sarah has a brain tumor."
Number: "The surgery is going to be in 2 days."
Fact: "Sarah has a shunt to drain fluid and relieve pressure."
Number: "Since they relieved the pressure her oxygen levels have been very good 96, 99, 98."

I have not done well when processing my feelings about those facts. I overheard my roommate on the phone very earlier this week saying that, "Karen is having a hard time dealing with this." She was right, but I hadn't faced up to that yet. I had to do some thinking as to why this was. Sarah and I are friends, but it's not like we hang out every weekend. Shoot, we probably haven't "hung out" where the purpose was that Sarah and I wanted to get together in over a year. Why was I so upset about all this? I quickly came up with the answers.

One: I am an only child. I do not know what it is like to have brothers or sisters. I'm not complaining or whining about it, just stating a fact. But while I do not know what it's like to have a brother or a sister, I do know what it was like to grow up with the Sheltons, all 5 of them. My family moved to Perkins when I was 7 and very soon after that our families began vacationing together every summer. We shared meals together often and I even remember a long time where it was strange if the Mays and the Sheltons weren't together Sunday night after church. Sarah and Laura are like sisters to me (and they guys are like brothers) even if we haven't kept up the past few years... we kinda grew up together.

Two: I believe in God's sovereignty. I believe that He holds infinite power to do whatever He wants. I believe that when we pray for things that don't end up going the way we prayed it is not because God didn't hear our prayer or that we didn't pray hard enough or that God is punishing us for some sin by not setting things up the way we've asked. But because God answered, "No, I have another way." And this is really tough. God told the Israelites through Isaiah, "My thoughts are not your thoughts and my ways are not your ways." I absolutely believe that prayer changes thing much like I can change my own dad's course of action by asking him for something. But ultimately there are things that we might pray for where we have to understand that our ways are not His ways. He functions on a higher level of understanding than we do. There are some things that I might ask my dad for that he will not do or that he will say no to.
I have a close friend who has been through the experience of finding out a young family member has a brain tumor. In what seems to me to be a horrible injustice, her family member pasted away. While I did not know her or her family during that difficult time in their life I have talked, cried, held, laughed and gotten to know that family member some through interactions with my friend and her family. They prayed just as hard for the circumstance in their lives as we've prayed for Sarah. They are a family of great faith, who come from a community of faith much like our own. They sincerely begged God to heal the one in their lives in who was in this same circumstance. But God said no.

Before I hear any of this from anyone. (and believe me I will delete your comment, unfriend you and probably have a hard time not yelling at you the next time I see you if you do...) It wasn't because they didn't have enough faith. They couldn't have prayed any harder. It had nothing to do with sin in their lives. God simply did not choose to heal in this situation. Why? Did God not care? I can't believe that is the case. I have no answer for the why, and this is why believing in God's ultimate sovereignty scares me and is difficult. I can only try to rest in the fact that His ways are not my ways and His thoughts are not my thoughts. My God is bigger and smarter than me, and that is hard to deal with sometimes. So every time I saw a post or heard someone say, "It's going to be okay, God is going to heal Sarah." I had to think in my mind, "But sometimes He doesn't." I have to explain, this thought in my mind doesn't come out of, "He can't, or He is not able." But I just know that sometimes He does not.

So in this brutal waiting game in the hospital... I went into "having a hard time dealing with this." (Side note: I want it to be clear that I was not having as hard of a time dealing with things as the family was. I am not trying to take the spotlight here, I am just saying that I can't imagine how hard, or "dark" it got in their minds when I know how my own was handling things.) I was back in Sarah's room when they had finally gotten everything ready. I stood there with many others. (I think at one point there were 18 family members and friends in there.) We were all silent. I imagine we were all praying to ourselves. I watched as Jan stood silently by her daughter's head and prayed softly over her. I couldn't hear what she was saying, but I know she was begging God for Sarah's healing, for wisdom, alertness and skill for the Dr.s, and I’m sure the list goes on.
As I prayed, "God, please want to heal Sarah. You have the power and you can, please choose to." The scene above from the Chronicles of Narnia books came into my mind. This is from The Magician's Nephew. Digory's mother is dying and he comes to Narnia with the intent of finding a cure for her. Being a student of film I can't read anything without directing the movie of it in my head. This scene came back crystal clear just as if I had read it the night before.

It so humbling to me to think that when something touches my heart so heavily that it moves me to tears that my God, who loves perfectly, is also moved by that same thing. So often my view of God is very cold: He is up there keeping things running. Yes, He listens to me and allows me to speak to him, but it's listening like someone who is processes a debriefing, weighing out the good and the bad and plotting out a course of action. But that is not actually the case.
The beginning of Matthew 8 shows us where a man who needed healing comes to Jesus and says, "If you are willing, you can heal me." One version says it, "If you want to." Jesus responds to him by saying, "I want to." In the end of the next chapter Jesus feels compassion for an entire crowd of people. Later in the end of Chapter 20 Jesus is "deeply moved by" or "felt sorry for" others who needed healing.

"They were such big, bright tears compared with Digory's own that for a moment he felt as if the Lion must really be sorrier about his Mother than he was himself."
I was reminded while standing there silently that God is on our side. And while sometimes He may, in His infinite wisdom, choose to say, "No." It's not a cold, rejection of our paperwork. He created all the emotions we experience and He experiences them without imperfection because He is infinitely Holy and without sin. As much as we love this girl, God's tears for Sarah are bigger and brighter than our own. And we (I) have to understand that He is really sorrier about her pain and the whole situation than we are ourselves. But his sorrow does not come from a fear of what is going to happen. He knows, He is already in the future dealing with it. It comes from his love and concern and compassion for us, as dirty as we are compared to Him… He cares deeply for us. I don't know about you, but I can't help but find hope in that. I will do my best to give God full glory in any recovery, healing, or even in any pain that Sarah may experience, because I know that He loves her (and me and you) and because He is sovereign over all of it.