Waiting As the Storm Gathers Momentum

Waking per normal I got our son up and prepared for the day; got his and my breakfast prepared – him helping as much as a fifteen-month-old can. Later we went into wake Mum and all seemed fine. We left her to dress and I forgot about things for a considerable time. Then it dawned on me, where is Sarah? Our reconnaissance mission revealed Sarah still putting on her shoes... weeping.

I asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Everything’s surreal... it’s a surreal normality... nothing’s happened yet, but we know it will,” she said, wiping her tears with a tissue.

Waiting for the gale force winds and the storm surge has a grating yet stale eeriness about it. There is the sense that nothing’s changed, held together with an equal yet opposite feeling – everything’s changed.

We wonder if feeling the baby kicking is a positive sign when we know that it is fighting for its life. We have a flurry of text messages and a plethora of social media communication coming in – all so loving and supportive – wishing us the best and most encouraging – but there is the reality that this is a journey we alone must take. We have enjoyed more time in each other’s presence in the last few days than normal, and still we don’t have enough of each other. Hugs and cuddles have become more frequent. All positives. Yet there is the unstinting element of what’s still missing – the full truth – the full prognosis – the full weight of our baby’s plight. We enjoy laughs like we normally would, but there is an undercurrent to our thinking that won’t go away.

Somehow we know that the pain is ahead of us. We pray before our Lord, joining the many others, in praying for a miracle; for hope that growth and development might continue without vital, structural compromise. We have non-Christians praying for us. Everyone is wishing us the best.

Yet, the reality remains to be known. We have the very best medical professionals to journey with – so thankful to God are we for that.

***

As the storm clouds gather innocently enough,

The ocean surge resisting until time’s just right,

In stilted surreal normality we know it’ll be rough,

Even as we watch the storm roll in before our very sight.

The structure of our stability is our situated faith,

We know through the ravaging storm we’ll be alright,

Our faith upon the Lord is perfectly safe,

He will keep us in this, even as we fight.

© 2014 S. J. Wickham.