"Two steps forward, ten steps back" is how the doctor described the progression of liver disease once it reached a critical point. But Dad didn't even get two steps forward before the back-cycling began. And last night (actually, around 2 a.m.) he tried to "commend his spirit" into the hands of the Father, preferring that only Mom be with him (as she always has been). But God didn't reciprocate. Jane's wedding is a week from today, and she is ready to get married in the hospital, as long as Dad can be there.
We just don't know.
Dad is just desperately tired of pokes and sticks and proddings, and above all, of "hoverings." He can't stand being the object of anyone's ministrations, although he accepts Mom's. He has hardly eaten enough this week to keep an infant alive. He wants out.
The Scripture reading from St. Paul today offers ground for some kind of hope. St. Paul acknowledged that "for me, life means Christ and death is gain," but that for the sake of the Philippians "it is more advantageous to remain alive," and he drew the conclusion that this is what would happen, despite the circumstances in which he found himself while writing (in prison).
We just don't know. But God's timing will be perfect timing. If only we have eyes to see the grace of God.
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