"And I pray..."

 "And I pray..."

Jan-Marie Waters

           

The phone rings. It’s Saturday morning early, and I note that it’s our son in California calling – really early for him out there. That’s never good…“Hi, Son, what’s up?” “I’m in the hospital, Mom. It’s pancreatitis, and they’re running some tests. I’m being admitted now.”

I’m uneasy, but he’s been complaining of abdominal pain for a few weeks now. I thought he’d told me it was a bleeding ulcer and that he’d seen a doctor. Oh, well, what do I know? I won’t bother him with lots of questions right now. I say a prayer.

I call my son that evening, and he tells me he needs to make some “lifestyle changes and he’ll be okay.” I still have that nagging, worrying thing in the back of my mind, but I’m sure he knows best. I won’t crowd him – he hates that! I say a prayer.

The next several days consist of me trying to reach my son or his fiancé. Finally, Maria, lets me know that he’s sleeping, and he’ll get back in touch with me soon. My heart knows there is something very wrong and I pray.

A week goes by, and I receive a call from Maria on Wednesday night. “Mom, Justin is still really sick. His doctor says his body is not responding to the treatment the way it should be by now. They’re going to take him to surgery tomorrow. I’m sure it will be okay.”

"Do I need to come?" I ask.

“No, Mom, I’m sure everything will be fine.”

I pray.

Later, I receive a text from Maria. "He made it through the surgery."

Praise God! Thank you, Lord.

Thursday evening after attending the healing service at Good Shepherd, I receive a call from Maria. “Mom, Justin has a blood clot in his lung. He is receiving medication to dissolve the clot, but if that doesn’t work, he will need more surgery… Mom, he might not make it. I’m afraid. I can’t make decisions for him because we’re not married. Can you come?”

My heart seizes. "Of course. I’m on my way."

I’m packing and praying, praying and packing - trying to keep my wits about me. Out of nowhere, a primal scream bursts from me; I fall to my knees. I scream and scream. I can’t form words, but my very soul is crying out to my Lord. Save him, Lord! Mercy, Lord! I don’t know how long I stay on that floor, utterly bereft. My heart is doing the only thing it knows how to do right now. Save him, Lord! Mercy, Lord! Abba, Father …

Friday morning I'm on a flight to LA. I get lost in the airport – even though it's the same route I’ve been taking for years. A nice man walks me to my gate. When I explain to him my apparent idiocy, he says he will pray for us.

All the way to California, I plan my son’s funeral. Would he want to be with my grandparents in our hometown, or would he want to be in Pasadena where he’s lived since he got out of school? Who to call first? I’ll call a priest as soon as I get there for last rites, if necessary… and I pray. All the way, I pray.

When I arrive at the hospital and see my son, I almost collapse. My strength fails me. He is so bloated, I don't recognize my own child without seeing his profile - the “family nose.” There is blood on the floor from where his IV had failed, and they had to put in a PIC line. He is fluorescent yellow and on oxygen. He is in kidney failure. He is septic. He is very restless and pulls away his oxygen every few minutes. He is hallucinating. Now I realize that some of what my child is going through is withdrawal. I understand everything now.

I can’t think. I want to say something to let my child know that I am here, that he is not alone. Instead, I open my mouth and say, “Most merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against Thee in thought, word and deed …” When I get to the end, I start again. For hours, I confess to the Lord for Justin and for me. I stay by his bedside in case he can hear me, and I can hear him if he calls. “Most merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against Thee in thought, word and deed …”

My son survived that night, and every night since. The next day his body took up the challenge to heal. His heart took up the challenge to try again. His head is still working on it all (smile)!

I share this to tell you that when we are without strength. He hears us. Almighty God stretched out His hand and answered my prayers for my child again: Save him, Lord! Have mercy, Lord!

Today, my son is completely healthy and off all medications. He did not need the surgery. Thanks be to God!