Dear Daughters,

Our Thanksgiving celebration this year looked a lot different than usual.  Dad was in the hospital for 2 weeks, so we’ve seen each other here and there in the hospital, as we track Dad’s progress on the family Google Docs, MyChart from Metro Hospital, and the daily Dr. updates.  I’ve learned way more than I ever wanted to know about Covid and the fourth floor at Metro.  Yet I am so thankful for the many people I’ve met, from the ambulance guys (at our house 2 times in 5 days) to the ER staff, all those young whippersnapper doctors and nurses who look like they are fresh out of high school (yet they seem to know what they are talking about.)  The kind nurses, food servers, housekeeping staff, PT and OT therapists, chaplains and countless others who came every day with kind words and caring hearts.  Even the welcome desk people recognize us and ask how we are doing. 

I have always been amazed at the medical community, how they have given their lives to help people who are sick to regain strength, every day seeing what’s wrong with human bodies instead of what’s right with them.  Our bodies are so incredibly complex, fearfully and wonderfully made, and although they are typically well, one little microscopic organism can almost shut a body right down.

As you know, at the beginning of dad’s hospitalization he was so sick we thought we would lose him.  Many people were praying, as were we.  Most of our family were sick with Covid as well so at the beginning we were unable to visit.  Dad was sick, struggling to breathe, scared and secluded.

During that time, on one dark and lonely night at home, I simply surrendered Dad to Jesus saying, Your will be done.  I was too sick to do anything else, only able to say those four words.  But with that I fell asleep and slept peacefully. 

The next morning, there was a turnaround with Dad.  We were able to visit (some driving together in the covid van, the others separately). He became hopeful and fought to live and not die.

I wonder if knowing and truly believing the word Emmanuel – God with Us – makes a difference.  God with us.  A person, not a philosophy or an idea, but a real person – our Creator – is with us always.  When we forget about Emmanuel, fear and anxiety consume, doubt and despair control our thoughts.  But when we pause to believe and dwell on the fact that Our God is with us – even if we don’t feel like He is – then there is peace.

Someone is actually here, Someone unseen who is actually closer than the next unseen breath that fills your lungs,

and that which is unseen can be here, keeping you alive.

Ann Voskamp

I don’t know why Dad was spared and others aren’t; life is unfair and suffering abounds. I have cared for some whose bodies left this weary world and I have cared for those who have lived.  We always need to mourn with those who mourn, weep with those who weep and rejoice with those who rejoice. 

To always remember God is with us, no matter what darkness and pain we suffer, we know we are never alone, and that is the only comfort we have – in life and in death.

Love, Mom