Waiting on The Great Deliverer
By Michael Q. Pink
January 8, 2010This morning I washed Brenda’s hair gently with my own hands, moistened only by the tears flowing unabated down my reluctant cheeks, landing freely on sheet and pillow alike. As I write this update from beside her bed, the Bose is filling the airwaves with Rich Mullin’s Ragamuffin band doing the classic “My Deliverer is Coming… My Deliverer is Standing By”. The moment is pregnant. Heaven watches… Earth waits. Each second, an eternity. Nothing is taken for granted. Here’s the night watch report…
At 1:30 this morning, Tami came to get me to assess Brenda. Her respiration rate was about 3 ½ times normal. She had a fever of 103. She was struggling for each breath and all the while, non-responsive. A nurse was summoned. While waiting for her to arrive, Brenda’s respiration rate kicked up to about five times normal. Her body broke into a sweat and a seizure gripped her body. We prayed fervently for Brenda and saw the seizure leave the same way it came, leaving behind a much slower respiration rate and a totally wrung out woman.
By the time the nurse came, respiration was up to 44 breaths per minute and somewhat labored. Having lost her function of swallowing, the natural fluid secretions that come to her mouth present a threat to her breathing should they flow down her throat at the wrong time. Drugs were administered to break the fever and dry her mouth to reduce that threat. Morphine was given for its side effect of slowing respiration. It helped somewhat. Kidney function is compromised and fluid intake is limited to about a liter per day via IV.
The Bible speaks about a great cloud of witnesses that surround us. I feel them gathering at this moment, as though in a stadium to watch something very special happen. I and a few others are on the field, aware that an event of great significance is unfolding. I find myself looking into their eyes looking for clues as to what they know about what is about to unfold. Their lips are sealed. Their expression calm and confident. Unworried. They’ve seen it all before and are expectant. Nobody is letting me in on the plan, and I wonder if the script is waiting to be written even as I type these words.
I am swimming in hope against all hope. It is the course I have chosen. I am not delusional. Just a man who loves his wife and believes all things are possible with God. What are miracles for if not for this?

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