Three weeks ago, I awoke at midnight with severe abdominal pain. When it didn't let up for almost an hour, we headed to the ER. While cat scan results led to an ultrasound (last week) to further diagnose spots on my liver and spleen, the results did not explain the severe episode of pain.
I see a GI doctor tomorrow and have made several dietary changes (a little less coffee being one of them). Since neither my liver or spleen are enlarged, the chances of something extreme (like cancer) remain small. But between the unexpected pain and waiting for results to come in, I lost steam, went under, and stayed there a while.
I spent time with my parents this weekend since I accompanied their Palm Sunday church choir presentation. As we lingered over dinner Saturday evening, I said, "The reality is, for whatever reason, I haven't found normal Susan ever since the ER visit."
While I understand it on some level, I don't completely get why it's been so hard. Most likely, the pain will point back to mitochondrial disease related issues, which is no big surprise. But while it's typical and been a concern at times, facing intestinal issues on top of everything else is simply tiresome.
Just one-more-thing. And sometimes that one-more-thing tips the bucket over. And when the bucket spills and the mess is no longer contained, it's easy to withdraw, to curl up, and to watch crime TV:
But I digress.
Safe in my comfort zone, I emailed a few friends, had lunch with another, and kept hearing the words I once forced on my oldest son: Presence Matters. I've shared this story before, but it's been a while, so indulge me if you will.
My boys and I spent two summers at Camp Greystone, a girl's camp in Tuxedo, NC. At night, we bunked in a tiny cabin on the outskirts of camp. During the day, I taught music classes while the boys attended activities of their choosing. Sam became the archery king one year and Nathan had the entire group of girls screaming when he sang and danced at the talent show.
 |
| Sam and his numerous archery awards! |
 |
| Nathan with his favorite stick and hat! |
When I arrived at dinner the next day, Nathan had quite the story to share. After lunch, he'd chosen not to return to our cabin, but rather to follow the visiting physician's family to cooking class. The mom was very pregnant while caring for her two year old son and two young daughters, ages 4 and 6. When the class ended, the mom decided to take her crew to the lake and Nathan tagged along. As they approached the water, muddied after days of rain, the two year old took off down the dock and eventually fell off the side and disappeared.
While the panicked mom ran as fast as her pregnant body would allow, Nathan reached the place where the child fell in first. As he explained, "I saw something in the water and just reached my hand in and pulled." When he lifted it up, he realized he had a fist full of the toddler's hair.
 |
| Where it all took place. Notice the very long dock. |
After rescuing the child, Nathan was deemed a hero. The kind that is born from just being at the right place at the right time and going into action. My response? "See! Your presence matters!"
Fast forward eleven years and after accompanying the choir for two services this weekend, a dear woman stopped me before I left. She's known me since I was three. Her hand held my arm as she stated, "Thanks for being here. Your presence matters."
It's been a long few weeks. And it's been easy to pull away. I'm guilty. But presence matters, yours and mine. There's a young man who is alive today because my son pressed in and resisted the urge to hide away.
So I write. One more blog. One more story. To be part of His glory. Because His presence matters most. And His death and resurrection made a way for us to emerge from the depths and live life to the full.
He left his grave clothes behind so we can do the same.
Happy Easter.
 |
| Nathan and the child he rescued. |
photo credit: colorful coffee composition via photopin (license)
photo credit: Boom Boom via photopin (license)
