Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Long time no post. I've been meaning to update this lately, but the days have slipped by quickly. 

The last three weeks have been spent in quiet routine, here at my Dad's. Up at 6:30 to make breakfast and coffee, housework, reading, study, and cooking during the day, and trying my best to be a companion and a comfort to my Dad when he returns from work around 7 or 8. 

Things have been deteriorating, of late. This morning, before my Dad had finished shaving, we received a frantic call from my Uncle Ahmed's wife, informing us that Ahmed's health had taken a serious turn for the worse and they were taking him to the hospital. He has lymphoma, and, when I saw him last week, was unable to sit up. Right after this news, we received word from the ICU where my grandmother has been staying--she was not doing well, either. At Dad's order, I pulled on my black abaya, grabbed my head scarf and followed him out the door, headed for her. 

We could hear the screams before we got to the ICU. I didn't expect to be as shaken as I was, but her grotesque and painful situation was heartbreaking to see. I don't know what hurt more--to see her, tied to the bed to prevent her struggling, screaming through her oxygen mask, or my father, helpless for once in his life, his tired red eyes rimmed with tears. 

My Uncle Mohammed brought me back home a few hours later. It's been about 5 hours since I left, as my dad headed for his office for a few hours and distractedly promised to "keep me posted." I don't know how my grandmother is doing. I don't know how my uncle is doing. I feel a good cry coming. 

I spent the first hour back home listening to Death Cab for Cutie and reading Ecclesiates. Some avoid that book like the plague, claiming it is "depressing"--but I found it to be a refuge. Because sometimes it is right to simply see things for how they are and to speak plain, un-tempered truth. In our lives, many of our questions will go unanswered. Much of our pain will be endured without any tangible comfort. Much of what we treasure will fade into meaninglessness. 

And I believe the only solution, the only hope, to be found on those days is to be reminded of God's Big-ness. As I read the ancient words of Solomon, I felt as if I was being gently rocked, tiny in Everlasting Arms, my doubts being strained away as I felt my existence shrink to its proper proportion in the view of such a Great One. So much meaninglessness. yes. But I know the Meaning Himself. And there is the eye of the storm. The center. The constant. He Is. I will fade, too. But He Is.  

"I perceived that, whatever God does endures forever; nothing can be added to it, nor anything taken from it. God has done it, so that people would revere him. That which is, already has been; that which is to be, already has been." Ecclesiastes 3:14-15


2 comments:

  1. Beautiful- and you are right- He IS. Praying for you and yours always.

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  2. "The Lord will fulfil His purpose for me; Thy steadfast love, O Lord, endures forever. Do not forsake the work of Thy hands." (Ps. 138:8) To which He undoubtedly replies, "Don't worry. I won't."

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