The kids and I pray for this friend (and her family) every Wednesday morning. I told the kids what was going on, and they proceeded to get to praying. Meres started out by thanking God for everything she was thankful for. But, then she told God that we were NOT thankful that this friend was in the hospital.
It made me smile. In Meres' mind, being in a hospital is not a good thing, and thus not something to be thankful about.
That's my friend, right in the middle. The other is my friend too, but this post is not about her.=)
See, back in January, she had had open heart surgery. She had recovered well. She looked amazing, and full of vitality.
On Wednesday afternoon, the camera procedure happened. And it found nothing. The doctors knew there was a small aneurism, but it didn't concern them. The consensus was that no surgery was going to be needed.
Nonetheless, the heart surgeon that operated in January, came in for a consultation on Wednesday night, about 9:00. He stepped out of the room to take a call. My friend and her husband were praying, when a valve burst in her chest, and she started pouring blood out her mouth.
If she hadn't been in the hospital, she would have died.
If her surgeon hadn't been right there, she would have died.
She was on the operating table 15 minutes after that valve burst.
It was amazing.
God is amazing!
And, we are SO thankful.
The surgery took hours, and it is a miracle that she survived. It was touch and go (fever, life support, just being an anomaly with many unknowns because people don't live through this) through a lot of yesterday (Thursday).
The further I went through my day, the more grateful I became (and the more emotional-to be perfectly honest). I would be utterly desolated if this friend died. She is a friend, a mentor, a second mom to me and a grandma to my kids. We've partnered in ministry. She was the back-up plan for my births if my mom couldn't make it. She and her husband were the master and mistress of ceremonies at my wedding. She has counseled me and laughed with me and cried with me. She is wise, and has a wicked sense of humor, enjoys games, and she is a godly woman. I would miss her so much.
And, so yesterday, every step I took, every chop of the knife (while cooking), every mile driven, every task performed, became a cry for mercy.
Jesus thou Son of David, have mercy.
Mercy for her. Mercy for her family. Mercy for me.
My mascara has not fared too well the past two days. (since when did I switch to non-waterproof? It's not good for tears.) I'm kind of (absolutely) an emotional wreck.
There is so much good news, so much hope, so much progress. And for that I am grateful.
I am grateful that my God knows all the details, and He is ruling in them. That His plan is perfect, even when it seems like a negative thing in my eyes. That He knows who needs to be where and when. That He is the Great Physician that heals the sick.
I am so thankful.