The Holiness of the Last Place I Want to Be

It's the third day of March, in the morning, and I keep bumping into God. You'd think it would be classed as a "bad day", and it is, but it's not. You'd think this would be the last place I'd want to be, and it is, but it's not.

I am sitting in a hospital room beside the bed of a very sick little girl who is probably the one person in my life that hurts me most to see suffer in any way. I have just sent off to a place of badly needed rest, her mother, my daughter who is 24 weeks pregnant with my grandson, and who is probably the person in my life I least want to see stressed. I miss my husband, in another city, who is the last person in my life I want to be away from. And also in another city, another drama, not this one, but affecting us all, unfolds without me, mercifully, frustratingly. Away from friends I badly need. And I badly need a shower.

And yet, or maybe because of it, I keep bumping into Something, Someone bigger than me, bigger than this day.

God is gentle in the hands and face of a nurse who explains things carefully and warms up the stethoscope before listening to Abby's chest.

God is lavish in the provision of a first class hotel room, courtesy of Ronald McDonald House who was full this night (for just one night, but oh it had been such a long, brutal day).

God is loving in the voices of Staff and Elders, and others, who willingly release me to care for my family, even though it adds work and stress to them.

God is nourishing in the gifts of snacks - including Skittles for me and chocolate cookies for Kristyn - from friends who packed a life saving bag of goodies. And nourishing in another way with the many e-mails and offers to help that so many have promised.

God is hilarious in the grape that got away, and rolled under the curtain beside the big boot of the Amish father visiting his little girl in the next bed, while we waited with a mixture of dismay and glee to see if he would stomp on it.

God is well organized (in a wonderfully omniscient sort of way) in having the next four sermons already assigned to other teachers at Highview.

God is precise and intimate in providing a VHS copy of the Aristocats - Abby's favourite right now (because of the kitties, of course) and her own special TV on which to watch them.

And God is tender, so tender, in His whispers over my shoulder as I lean over the railing, gazing into the face of an at-last-asleep, excruciatingly beautiful little girl with the oxygen tube, and the chest tube and the IV tube, and all the wonderful, awful wires and hissing and beeping things.....

.....Aching for a chance to trade places with her.

And I swear I hear Him say, "As much as you love her, and would be willing in a heartbeat to take her place, I love her more....and I did. For her. And for you."

Here in this room,
The last place I want to be,
Turns out to be a very good place
A very holy place
For my soul to bump into God.