God is always with us

My sweet Erin, whose battle with cancer moved me to write The Salt Messages, has lost that fight and God has called her home.  It is so hard to write those words.  She has left a hole in me that will not be filled until I see her again.

Just before she passed, I had an experience that I’m absolutely convinced was a gift from God to help me begin the healing process even before He took her.  I want to share His message with you.  

As I’m writing this, it’s a beautiful day in northern Georgia; eighty degrees, bright sunshine and a light breeze.  I can’t imagine a more perfect day.  Except for the fact that my amazing daughter is losing her two-year struggle with cancer.  My wife, who is with Erin, put her on the phone with me so I could tell her again how much I love her in case she won’t be able to hear me when my plane lands tomorrow in Nevada, where Erin’s home is.  I told my wife I would go to the airport and get on a plane tonight, but she didn’t think I should.

I have walked around the house in circles for the last hour and a half, trying to understand why this is happening.  I’ve prayed to God repeatedly ever since her diagnosis.  I asked Him to heal her.  I offered to take her place.  She’s young.  Why not let her live? 

I called my wife for another update.  She said Erin isn’t in pain, but I can hear Erin make unintelligible moans in the background that sound to me like pain or at least like she is trying to tell us something.  My wife said the nurse told her the sounds Erin is making are “normal” and that she’s just not yet ready to go.

I said I thought I was going to throw up.  My wife, who is caring for our dying daughter, calmed me.  I should be calming her!  Instead, she told me to go to the neighbors’, who had invited me to dinner and that she would see me tomorrow.  She promised to call if anything changed.

After we hung-up, I resumed my mindless pacing.  As I walked through the kitchen, I heard a buzzing in the background.  I had heard it the day before, but could never find the cause.  This time, I saw the yellow jacket behind the shutter on one of the windows.  It was frantically trying to make its way through the glass, and had apparently been doing so for at least the past two days. 

Suddenly, helping it became an urgent need for me.  I couldn’t help Erin, but at least I could help this wasp. 

Because the windows were painted shut, I looked around for something I could use to get the wasp from the window to the door when I saw an Easter card.  Thinking I could maneuver it onto the card, I managed to rearrange the furniture between the wasp and me so I could open the shutter, then I positioned the card under the yellow jacket. The only thing I managed to accomplish was to probably frighten it and certainly irritate it.  I was absolutely determined to help this wasp, but I didn’t want to get stung in the process. 

Every time I had the wasp on the card, it flew back to the window.  Why didn’t it understand I was trying to save it? 

It finally stayed on the card long enough for me to move away from the window, only to fly off to another shuttered window.  The furniture had to again be rearranged, but I was driven to do this.  

It hid from me and I couldn’t find it.  I looked and looked without luck.  I was almost ready to admit defeat when I spotted it and the whole process started anew.  We replayed this scene over and over until I gave up on the Easter card, deciding I needed something I could use to actually catch it.  

I grabbed a napkin.  It worked beautifully.  I was careful about the pressure I was using to get ahold of the wasp. I didn’t want to crush it.  Once I had it in the napkin, it escaped yet again, but opted to walk up my hand then arm and finally my shirt.  While I couldn’t see it where it was on my shirt, I realized I just needed to walk outside and the wasp would finally be free. 

The only problem with this plan is the wasp again chose to find still another window.  My shoulders sagged.  Why was I trying so hard to save it?  But, I remembered why I was doing all of this in the first place and refocused.  

Finally, I had the yellow jacket safely secured in the napkin, opened the door and placed it carefully on a piece of furniture on the porch.  It walked aimlessly for a minute, then flew away.

What wasn’t lost on me is how many of us behave the same way this wasp did when God is reaching out to save us.  He doesn’t quit even when we beat our heads against the glass in futility or hide from him.  He is careful not to crush us when He takes us in His hands.  He doesn’t give up on us.

I am hurting for my little girl.  I am hurting for my wife, for all who know and love Erin and I am hurting for me.  I suspect God sent this wasp to me to help me understand how special each of us is to Him and to know He will embrace Erin with loving arms.

Erin is okay.  With God’s help I will be. 

Stop what you’re doing.  Hug those you love.  Tell them how much they mean to you.  And, try to stop hitting your head on the glass.