This is my first guest blogger- J and J live in Central Asia and have a sweet little girl. They are an amazing family and I wish I could share more details of their lives! This story is their recollection of the week after their little one’s birth. Enjoy…
A reflection on J’s journey to the hospital and the Mercy of God
It was approaching midnight, and the bleeding was getting worse. The night began as a quiet, joyful, night with our little family. Just a few hours earlier, J and I sat at the dinner table, dreaming about our future, recalling the past, and marveling at our beautiful little baby. As I was preparing for our trek to the hospital, I remember thinking how our wonderful meal together that evening seemed like a distant memory. In a matter of hours we went making plans for the future to wondering if J would be alive to see that future.
When I checked on J she looked bad, but not horrible. She mustered up a courageous, but totally fake, smile and said something like…
“Don’t worry honey, I’m fine. I should be able to walk to the taxi on my own. I probably don’t even need to go to the hospital.”
I went back to taking care of E, packing, and “Googling” J’s symptoms. I must have looked out the window every 10 seconds to see if M and B were on their way to our apartment. I checked on J and she looked a lot worse–pale and leaning over the bathroom hamper. It was evident that she needed help. I asked her if she was okay and she responded by saying something like this….
“Don’t worry honey, I’m fine. I should be able to walk to the taxi on my own. I probably don’t even need to go to the hospital.”
Five minutes later, the doorbell rang. Our friends M and B had arrived. During the time that it had taken for me to answer the door, J had completely fallen to the floor. Alarmed, I asked her if she was okay. She said…
“Don’t worry honey, I’m fine. I should be able to walk to the taxi on my own. I probably don’t even need to go to the hospital.”
I knew things were getting very bad. I immediately called an ambulance and tried to comfort J. Then I helped her stand up and began to walk to the front door. She seemed like she might actually be able to walk on her own feet. I began to wonder if I was overreacting. Maybe she was okay. I reached for her coat, but before I could even extend my arm, she was falling to the floor. I caught her in my arms.
My temporary relief that she didn’t fall to the floor was eliminated when I saw her face. It was pale and lifeless. The very face that I’ve kissed a millions of times, the last thing I see every night and first thing I see every morning, was cold and expressionless. She was completely unconscious and totally limp. At that moment M and I simultaneously decided that the ambulance wasn’t coming fast enough. We needed to get to the hospital RIGHT NOW. We burst through the door and headed down the stairs with J in our arms.
Our apartment is on the forth floor–no elevator, narrow stairs, and somewhat poor lighting. M had J by the legs while I carried her by her arms. We were flying down the stairs, probably faster than any person had ever moved on those stairs. If it wasn’t such an urgent situation, I might have had time to be impressed. However, it was an urgent situation and my only emotion was fear, my only thought was J.
After being unconscious for several minutes, J briefly woke up at the bottom of the stairs, looked up at me and said something like…
“Don’t worry honey, I’m fine. I should be able to walk to the taxi on my own. I probably don’t even need to go to the hospital.”
At this point, I was ignoring J’s diagnosis of her own health. She was not fine. Rather, she needed serious medical attention. She was unaware of how weak she truly was. She desperately needed help and she didn’t even realize it.
M tracked down a taxi, we put J in, and zoomed off to the hospital. Taxi drivers in Central Asia can be wild drivers at times, but it’s a good thing in times like these. He saw how dire J’s situation was and booked it to the hospital. Maneuvering the car with the skill of a race car driver and the carefulness of an ambulance driver, he got us to hospital within five minutes.
Once we arrived at the hospital, they quickly ushered J to the doctor and me to a waiting room. After a few hours in surgery, they wheeled J into the room where I was waiting. This time, J was actually fine. The doctors stopped the bleeding and gave her a blood transfusion. She would be at home within 24 hours.
Before heading home, the doctor pulled me aside and said that she had never seen this much bleeding and that if we had arrived any later there was a chance that J could have died.
Gospel Reflection
“For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly.”
–Romans 5:6
All people have a propensity to drastically over estimate their strength and drastically under estimate their need. We truly believe we can walk through this life on our own two feet. We acknowledge that we have some problems, but assume that we are one self-help book, one diet, or one more purchase away from having control of our life.
We diagnose our life like J diagnosed her problem. We say we are fine, but, in reality, we are not fine. We claim to be sufficient, but we need help. We claim to be strong, but we can only muster up enough strength to stumble to the front door of life.
Our soul is severely wounded and it’s only a matter of time until the last drop hits the floor and our life is gone.
However, there is One who waits by the front door, One who is able to rescue us from this dire situation. Jesus is the One who is strong enough to carry us down the stairs of life. Jesus is the taxi who speeds through the alley of sin and brokenness to bring us to the Heaven’s Hospital. Jesus is the Great Surgeon whose healing hands bring our soul to health. Jesus is the Merciful Blood Donor, the One who generously gave up his blood on the cross to give us life.
We are more flawed and sinful than we ever dared believe, yet, in Jesus, we are more loved and accepted than we ever dared hope. – Tim Keller
