A family crisis
I suppose it takes me around ten steps to get from our bed to the phone in the hall. So when, around three o’clock on Thursday morning it rang, I was already partly awake and prepared for something unpleasant by the time I picked it up. No one except Swansea drunks getting a wrong number calls at that hour unless it’s an emergency. And emergency it was: our grandson Simeon, 15 days old, was in intensive care, anaesthetised and ventilated, with something unknown, but serious, wrong with him. Three hours drive away, all we could do was pray and lie awake hoping that there would not be a second phone call.
Thursday was the first proper day of teaching for me and I can assure you it was not a good one. However I do have to say my colleagues were universally superb in their sympathy and support. Bit by bit during the day the details came out and a tentative diagnosis (still not fully confirmed at the moment) made of what is called CAH or Congenital Adrenal Hyperplasia: courtesy of the web you can read all about it. But over the last couple of days Simeon has gradually recovered, being shifted first to high dependency and then to a normal ward while he recovers some weight and, I presume, more tests are done. If it is CAH the prognosis is reasonably good although with current technology he will have a lifetime of being dependent on replacement steroids. Which, as someone said, means that he will probably be ruled out from ever competing in the Olympics.
Let me make three cautious observations. The first is that we have come to take for granted the wonder of childbirth and healthy children. When you think about it, it’s a pretty amazing for a baby to shift from being effectively a parasitic creature taking food and oxygen from the mother to being a (more or less) self-sustaining and self-regulating organism. Somehow we have come to consider it to be a right that this proceeds automatically and without trouble. We shouldn’t do so. Two of my colleagues have had neo-natal fatalities recently.
The second observation was that things like this make you realise the true importance of family, friends and the faith. As I lay in bed my thoughts turned to last week’s blog on the iPhone and the whole topic seemed pathetically insignificant. Perhaps being reminded of one’s true priorities is no bad thing.
The third observation is that contrary to what you might expect I don’t think I ever once rounded on God and angrily demanded ‘Why Simeon?’. I suppose if things had turned out worse (and of course he is not out of the woods yet) I might have done so. I think – intellectually at least – I have come round to the view that being a child of God does not exempt you from suffering. I think I would almost be embarrassed to be in a situation in which I was granted immunity from the world’s woes. No one respects those who dodge military service or jury duty through family influence. In a world full of wounded people perhaps we need to have scars.
Anyway I will keep you in touch. Have a good week.
Themocracy
Chris,
Thank you for sharing your family crisis with us. You and your family have our prayers.
You’re right – we’re not exempt from the struggles and trials of life. Some otherwise very “full gospel” groups feel differently. One phrase I’ve heard several times is, “Sickness is not our schoolmaster.” Somehow that doesn’t fit with what I understand of scriptural precedent.
A well-known Christain author (who is obviously not well-known enough for me to remember his name) quoted some verse of which I remember this: “Have you no scar? He surely cannot have travelled far, who has no wound, or scar.”
You’re right – things like this trivialize much of what, at the time, seemed important. And once God has “woken us up”, I suppose the challenge is to stay awake, and keep our awareness of suffering and struggle high. Somehow it’s easier to remember to pray and feel with people when the issue is close at hand, and not so easy when the ones struggling are more removed from us. A scary prayer to pray is, “Jesus, give me your heart for people.” I suppose if we’re willing to have our heart breaking most of the time, that’s a safe prayer. I’m not sure I’m there yet. But I will pray for Simeon, and for your family as you navigate through this difficult time.
Take care,
Terry
Keep us updated. I will pray for your sweet grandson that they get this figured out soon.
Will pray
Chris – so sorry to hear of the crisis but, praise be to God, it seems from your report that your little Simeon will make it through ok. As a father to 3 and grandfather to 3, I do have to admit a certain familiarity with those horrible middle of the night calls!
You’re so right about how we seem to always assume that normalcy is the expected outcome for our children or grandchildren. Like you, I’ve also learned we’re not exempt from the struggles and trials. Our third granchild (now 10 weeks old) was born with only half his left hand and may now also have to cope with another condition called craniosynostosis (serious if not treated… surgery).
I take comfort in knowing that God will not abandon us. That knowledge keeps me going in the face of such adversities.
Bless you, Chris, and our prayers are with your grandson and family.
Praying for all of you
Chris,
I hope things work out O.K. for you. You’ll be in my thoughts.
John Weaver