the other side of the bed

I've spent a couple nights in the last week in the hospital - not as a nurse, or a patient, but as the friend of a patient. Isabel, who I asked you to pray for 2 Sundays ago, is still in the ICU in a coma, intubated, on a vent, sedated and paralyzed - with an uncertain future which no one short of God knows the details or even the general story-line of. My time with her has been sweet, in which God has taught me much about himself. It's also strange to be on the other side of the bed.

Most all of my time in hospitals has been spent on the nurse's side of the bed. I am familiar with that side of the bed. The other side of the bed - not so familiar. I mean, when I'm on the patient's family/friends side of the bed I can tell what the alarms are for when they go off, I know the general flow of care, I know who's responsible for what, who to ask about what - but it's my role I'm not so sure of, not so familiar with. Part of this situation is that I'm not family, I'm not Isabel's mother (although one doctor did ask me if I was...) or even her sister - which changes things a bit, but I'm not sure how exactly. Part of it is that Neuro is so unpredictable, the brain is a wild place and there is so much we don't know about it or how it will behave.

Should I ask why they just did what they did? Should I ask what their concerns at this point are? What questions are appropriate and when? I know enough to know some but not enough to round out the picture I'm used to knowing when I walk into rooms that look like this one - rooms with oxygen flowmeters and suction canisters and towers of machines with blinking lights and tubes going in lots of different directions...How much stimulation is too much for her? I can totally give the nurse a second set of hands, which with a 20 year old with no muscle tone could be helpful, but maybe that's not my role here tonight...?

I like having my role defined. I realize this more and more as life goes on. Definition is my comfort zone. That's not to say, however, that situations lacking definition are bad or harmful - they're just unfamiliar, with a degree of discomfort. But usually that degree of discomfort is good for me.

Not knowing, not being able to see the whole picture, lacking definition - it means I have to lean on the One who does know, who can see the whole picture, for my comfort.

The other night I was reading Matthew 14 while sitting with Isabel - the 5 loaves and 2 fish, the calming of the storm, Peter walking on water and the healings at Gennesaret - and it struck me that Jesus is quite capable of doing exactly what's best when we trust Him with our whole selves. So that's what I tried to do with Isabel. Over and over, throughout the night, I entrusted her into His care. I might not know, or be able to see the whole picture, but He does.

So, South Sudan, you might be wondering...that doesn't strike me as a place in which lots of roles are defined where the whole picture is easily seen and understood. You would be right. Matt 14 applies not only to the other side of the bed, but also to the other side of the world. My role there is now and may always be fairly undefined, I will NEVER be able to see the whole picture, or even most of it, but if nothing else, my leaning muscles will become well defined!