The whole situation is drastically different tonight than last night. I wish that were true of everyone’s sickness.
Good news is finally beginning to surface, and we give God the glory. Kidney function made a great leap forward in today’s lab work. The liver is also doing fine. There were some abnormal numbers initially, but when they went in to explore, they found everything well. There are still some tests for obscure infections outstanding, but the infectious diseases doctor didn’t expect any surprises. He believes the initial culprit was the flu, despite the negative test.
There are still a few hurdles ahead of us, but the finish line is near. She is still very weak, requiring physical therapy. Mobility is highly suggested before getting out of the hospital. Blood pressure is another concern. Alma’s runs a little high all the time, but the doctors don’t really like releasing her when it’s too high. When they start pushing it, she gets more aggravated, and it goes even higher.
My emotions are much better tonight. We both went to sleep around 8pm, so my body is telling me, at 3am, that I’ve been in bed long enough. Alma slept peacefully, even though she’s still hooked up to lots of instruments. They were talking last night about moving her back to the regular floor, but rooms are hard to come by during this current flu epidemic, and she remains a high risk patient.
Thinking back on my struggles last night, I realized something about trust. Trust is one of those currencies in life that is earned through trial and testing. Certainly applies to me, but I believe it even applied to Jesus. It’s tempting to think that Jesus, as God in the flesh, would have enough trust to go immediately to the cross and accomplish the work he was sent to do. Why would he delay? “Although he was the Son, he learned obedience from what he suffered.” (Hebrews 5:8 CSB) Before he could make that ultimate sacrifice, there was learning to be done, even for him. Remember his words in the Garden? When it came to the moment, he was still praying, “Father, you are able to take this suffering from me.” Yet in the end, he said, “Not my will, but yours be done.” (Matthew 26:39)
I don’t know when my ultimate sacrifice will come, or how it will come. But every test draws me closer to the trust to say, “Not my will, but yours.”