Wondering Thoughts

What I see when I look at my little girl tonight . . .

 

Polka dot sheets, with polkas and dots so bright that you can’t help but look her way

Extraordinary life; a life to the full as Jesus would say

A finger lit up in the way of ET

The face of an angel, as if reflecting what she is beholding with her eyes

A scarf-covered epicenter of injury

Wires, tubes and lines working overtime

Answers to prayers

A body holding a vivacious spirit ready to break forth and express

An arm empty of adoring Ellie

Feet that have walked in the light of Jesus more often than not

A girl once tiny enough to nest on my chest

Surrounded By A Cloud of Many Witnesses

Late night haiku in pccu

Lines, tubes, the nurses
Constant prayers of the people
Conduits of God

There's A Jairus in My Head

I can’t get Jairus out of my head these days.  That crazy name has been bouncing around in there each of these last 15 days.  It wasn’t too many weeks ago in the lectionary that I preached from the passage in Mark (Chapter 5:22-43) that gives us just a small yet magnificent glimpse into Jairus’ life.  My focus was on the story within the story, about the woman who had a bleeding disorder and who reached out to touch the hem of Jesus’ garment.  All of this happened between the time that Jesus received the plea for Jesus to heal his daughter to the time that he actually arrived at the bedside of Jairus daughter to perform the healing.  In light of what has happened in my life since preaching this text, perhaps I should have focused on the Jairus end of the story.  Who knew I would have so much in common with a man named Jairus?

So, out of the inability to get Jairus out of my head, I return to Mark 5.  What strikes me most is something that hit me while studying the text several weeks ago—Jairus’ daughter was 12 years old.  I think I even remember noting in my sermon, even though it’s not in my manuscript, of how it struck me that our daughters were the same age.  I’ve read and studied this passage countless times, but this time, in this 12^th year of my daughter, it grabbed me in a new way and I could relate to him and imagine what he was going through.  And, now, that identification is even greater.  I now read this passage with a kind of association I would rather not have.

I am right there with Jairus now at the feet of Jesus, pleading earnestly with this Jesus whom I’ve seen and whom I’ve known to do great miracles.  I am right there in my desperation and utter fear, realizing that there is nothing else that can work and no one else who can help.  I’m right there, not worried about what others who consider it futile or even foolish to go to Jesus are thinking.  I’m at the feet of Jesus and I’m pleading.  I’m right there believing that there is power in the hands of Jesus and that their placement on my daughter will mean that “she will be healed and live.”

I also identify with what must have been great impatience on the part of Jairus when he saw Jesus taking time to stop and relate to someone else.  I’m sure he was thinking, “Uh . . . Um., excuse me, Jesus, what are you doing?  My daughter is dying and you don’t have time for anything else.”  Jesus didn’t seem to be bothered by the urgency of the situation but was, rather, confident that he (and she) was right in God’s timing.  Healing was on the way but had not fully arrived.

I, even at this very moment, feel tremendous urgency and the stress of timing.  I fear the unknown while my daughter sleeps and find myself pulling on the other side of Jesus’ garment to get to moving; do something visible right now.  Right now, Jesus! Jesus, don’t you know about ICP’s and CPP’s?  Don’t you know what will happen if those numbers keep spiraling upward?

Jairus and my soul are reminding me to be patient; that healing is on its way.

Meanwhile, I’m inserting myself into this passage and will keep this Jairus prayer going until I see the results of “Talitha koum!” manifest in my daughter’s body. 

Jesus,   "My little daughter is dying. Please come and put your hands on her so that she will be healed and live."

Maggie Lee on KTBS

Corrie Cross of KTBS, Shreveport did a story on Maggie Lee for yesterday's 6 and 10 news.  Great job, Corrie!

The embed code for the video doesn't want to cooperate, but here is the link.

"Rise Up"

I went out down to the Café de Sodexo (ok, hospital cafeteria) to get a cup of coffee and a change of scenery.  When I came back to the bedside, I looked at Maggie Lee and, just for a moment, thought I would wake her up.  I thought of the many times I have walked upon her sleeping and awakened her (she is not a deep sleeper and it has always been fun to come up with crazy ways to shake her out of bed).  For just that moment, I had forgotten that she is hooked up to what must be miles of wiring, tubes and drugs.  It wasn’t registering in my sleepy head that she is in the hospital, in a Critical Care Unit where someone must tend to her minute by minute.  It somehow escaped me that her body is at dis-ease and has been that way for almost two weeks now.  I walked up to her and started to wake her like I’ve done so many times before, but that moment ended and I remembered where we were.

That’s enough of a realization to leave a person feeling crushed, depressed and helpless.  And I would be dishonest with you if I told you that I have not experienced those feelings many times in these last two weeks.  But, as I looked at her again as the fog of my brain was clearing, the words “rise up” came to mind.  The gospels show Jesus with such power to look at those who sleep and awaken them with his love and those very words.  “Rise up.”

I want the same for Maggie Lee as I look at her.  And I know Jesus still says them.

Lord Jesus, speak your words of reveille to her.  Call her out of this deep sleep. 

--John

*I know it must seem strange that I’m writing at a time like this, but I’m finding that is helpful for me to do so; to find ways of working through all of this that doesn’t make any sense at all.  I have enjoyed blogging—and now mostly microblogging in 140 characters—for several years and it has become an outlet for me to articulate what I feel as well as a form of prayer.  Thanks for listening.

Maggie Lee as Junie B. Jones

I forgot about this video of Maggie Lee. I'm in the process of putting up a video page of videos of her. If you have any, please let me know. This one is from 2007 and it's amazing how much she has grown since then.

Maggie Lee Henson
FBC School Idol Talent Show
Thursday, April 12, 2007

Ring of Encouragement

I was recently digging around in the outer flap of my computer bag.  Some say it is my manbag, but I carry no such item.  As I was hunting for a cord for my computer, I found something I had not seen since early into this nightmare.  It is a small zip lock bag, with “Speciman Bag.  BIOHAZARD.” and directions with four steps on how to insert something into it.  Inside the bag is something very non-biohazardous, but something that must have been inserted with a few tears, a measure of compassion and perhaps a prayer.

Inside the bag is a ring that Maggie Lee was wearing when they found her. It’s a ring that Jinny bought for her when she was coming back recently from a trip to Knoxville, one to serve as an encircling reminder of how much she believes in Maggie Lee.  It was given to her to wear while going off to Camp Crestridge for two weeks of camp, where she didn’t yet know anyone and would be 900 miles from home.  Jinny knew she wouldn’t know anyone at camp and wanted her to remember how much she believed in her and her dreams even though they would be apart.”

Jinny is the greatest encourager I know.  It’s a gift of hers and she is more than willing to pour it out liberally on anyone she sees.  If you know Jinny, you know its generous, loud and completely heartfelt.  It is the fuel in my tank and it is dispensed constantly in our house to accomplish anything from taking a math test, preaching a sermon or even to pulling a tooth.  I had no idea she gave this ring to Maggie Lee, but it doesn’t surprise me at all to learn of it tonight.

As I read the ring, the words stood out to me, especially as I think of how they are so fitting of the way Maggie Lee lives her life.  Engraved on the ring are these words: 

Dream.  Fly.  Dance.  Sing.

I am looking at her now, asleep in the bed, knowing that it’s not time for her to go.  She is too young, too full of dreams, flight, dance and song.  As I look at her beautiful, unusually quiet self resting in this bed, my prayer, O Lord, is for her to . . .

Dream.  
Fly.  
Dance.  
Sing.

May it be so, Lord God.  May it be so.

 

 You turned my wailing into dancing;
       you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,

                        Psalm 30:11

Trip to CT Scan

The trek down to the CT scan went well--thanks to your prayers and the great nurses and team who accompany her down.  The trek in and of itself is risky, but the team watches every detail, juggling monitors, breathing apparati, lines, etc. 

We are awaiting results of the scan and will update with what we learn.

By the way, if you are a blog reader but have not been to the Caringbridge site for Maggie Lee, I'm keeping more updates there and, at some point, will get all of the sites coordinated with the same info.  The site is here.

A Look at PCCU

A few folks have asked about our arrangements here at the hospital, so I thought I would describe things.  We are in the Pediatric Critical Care Unit at Univ. of Miss. Medical Center.  Specifically, it is the Batson Children's Hospital. 

The floor is open for the most part, with curtains that separate patients on one side of the floor.  I'm not for sure, but it appears that when you get better, you get to move to the other side, where there are rooms, walls and doors.  The openness of our side provides easy access and monitoring of each patient. 

Since arriving, we have had 24/7 one-on-one care (and, wow, what skill and ability these folks have) from a nurse and a team of doctors and residents.  As I look now at Maggie Lee, I see too many lines to count (from what I hear Maggie Lee ties with someone else the most number of lines they've had).  There are monitors flashing numbers, machines beeping, babies crying, doctors talking, parents whispering, people praying, and the sound of Maggie Lee's breathing machine. 

As I look up at my beautiful girl, I see that her mother has softened the sterile decorations with things loving people have given to Maggie Lee since she arrived here--a pink throw at Maggie Lee's feet, a pink pillow case with giraffe stylings and engraved name underneath Maggie Lee's head, a chihuaha ornament in the likes of Ellie dangling from a rod, pictures on a huge poster board with FBCS friends, cards from people we know and people we don't, a stuffed turtle underneath Maggie Lee's hand, a balloon tied behind her with the words "here's to a speedy recovery" on it, a cross, artwork from Jack, and a big #23 marking our current Jackson address.

And, there are two chairs beside Maggie Lee.  They look normal and could be place almost anywhere, yet in here they are for us launching pads for prayer, fixtures on the rollercoaster and stations of hope.

John