Toeing the Line

My understanding of what it means to toe the line is that one conforms to a set of standards and rules.  This phrase has come to mind several times in the past week as I find myself toeing what feel like two opposing lines. 

During the time leading up to Lydia's death was a long period of waiting in which I toed the lines of both Heaven and Earth.  I found great comfort in remaining present in each day and not worrying about tomorrow as Jesus counseled us to do.  However, there were one or two things about which I found it difficult to not worry.  One: I struggled with worry about whether we would be forced to make decisions about prolonging (or not) Lydia's life should we arrive at that crossroads.  This time never came.  In fact, we arrived at the Dr.'s office and began to discuss past and future consultations with more experts before I interrupted and asked that we check for a heartbeat before we discuss future plans.  There was no heartbeat.  The day had finally come.  It was over. There had been no need to worry.  Two: I worried about holding Lydia's lifeless body once she was delivered.  I tried not to.  It was a struggle especially on the day of delivery.  When the time came, the answer was obvious.  There was no difficult decision to make.  We never did see Lydia's body.  And I have absolutely no doubt that I will not regret that decision.  It was right.  And it was worthless to have worried about it.  I knew when the moment came I would know what the right decision would be.  I did know.  But I couldn't help it worrying.

There are times as a Christian when you live in both an eternal mind frame as a citizen of Heaven and a worldly one as a citizen of the world.  And you toe both lines.  And it's not an easy place to be.  Frankly sometimes it feels impossible. 

I traveled to Edinboro on Monday morning with plans to have some very good times with the kids mixed up with very hard times of burial and memorial planning.  On Tuesday morning I realized that my body was definitely not recovering from the labor and delivery like it should be.  I called my doctor in RI for a consult and they referred me directly to the closest Emergency room.  I wept.  I just wanted the hard stuff to be over and this was not fitting in my plans to take my kids to the fair and Cedar Point.  It had been a long, hard road and I was looking forward to spending fun time with them.  I seriously considered not going, but I went.  I spent all of the afternoon and into the evening in the ER only to be referred for a doctor appointment first thing the following morning with a local obstetrician.  The next morning I was told I needed to go immediately to the hospital for surgery.  There went Wednesday (yesterday)--all day in the hospital and under general anesthesia. 

I didn't get to have fun with the kiddos yesterday and the day before.  And today we had to meet with the funeral home for the burial arrangements and the Pastor for the memorial.  This whole week has been full of the earthly concerns.  Burying babies, undergoing surgery, thwarted plans and expectations.  And I find that the ebbing and flowing of earthly concerns and heavenly peace aren't quite as smooth and predictable as the tide.  Sometimes it feels more like riding in a bumper car.  You might be heading along the straight and narrow for a bit, but you know the next blow could be just at the next turn. 

Today I can look at yesterday and the day before and say I'm thankful for the timing.  I'm very grateful that I don't have to go home to surgery after the memorial and that the memorial will hopefully be closure to this part of my story.  I'm extremely thankful to be feeling better.  I didn't expect the surgery to be the end to pain, I assumed there would be at least a small period of recovery.  But the surgery surprisingly brought complete healing.

I find, now, a day after the last few blows that there is more for which to be thankful than there is for which to be sad.  I wonder if it is like this in every trial.  I have a feeling God has been very gentle with me through these last eight weeks.  I pray that whatever trial comes next, He will be just as gentle and reveal His place in it just as clearly and that the pain and standards of the world will be just as easily or just as quickly outweighed by the standards of heaven.

Tomorrow is the memorial.  We have decided to keep it a very small service with family and very close friends in the morning.  In the afternoon, we will be at my parents' house enjoying one another’s company.  All are welcome to visit after the service.

I want to send one more "thank you" to all of you, again.  Your notes, comments and messages have been extremely encouraging and brought me great comfort.  It's an incredible blessing to hear the ways God influencing our story is touching the world.