The In-between

I was sitting in a hospital waiting room where I'd spent most of my waking hours from Tuesday until Wednesday. I'd gone 45 hours without sleep. But I was exactly where I needed to be. I was the in-between. I was standing in between life, death, heartache and heart elation. I was falling in love with an infant and loving others through tragedy. I was standing in the gap and praying harder than I ever remember praying. I was standing in the gap while others were racing against the clock. I felt helpless, but necessary. I was a juxtaposition of emotion but a balancing act for those who could not do anything but act. I could wait. And I did.

My niece, who was 400 miles away and 30 weeks into her pregnancy, went into labor. There was no time to slow, much less stop her delivery. Labor was quick and while they were planning on air transport for her, she had to stay behind, and her baby girl was instead, airlifted to the hospital where I was now wearing a path in the carpet awaiting the baby girl's arrival. She arrived, weighing 2 lbs. 12 oz., and 15" long. She was TINY. But she was ALIVE. 

Meanwhile (another fitting word describing the in-between time), my father was lying in a hospital bed for the third time in three weeks, suffering from congestive heart failure. Its horrible, not being able to divide and conquer. He was 350 miles away, and I, being incapable of being in two places at once, was wishing beyond measure that I could call on Scotty to just beam me up, and wishing that whole clone thing was actually a reality so that everyone thought I was where they thought I should be. Just a few doors down from his, my aunt was reaching the end of her very troubled, heartbreaking life, preparing for her exit of this earthly one into the presence of one filled with joy and peace and a reality that conquered judgment and fear. 

Its been more than a week now. Baby Girl is being held by an awestruck mommy, being protected by her awestruck daddy. She is proving there is still miraculous power circulating our earthbound beings.  

My dad is home now. He has to make some definitive lifestyle changes. The words rest and retirement haunt him, but really, well into those 70's, he has earned them. Giving up Snickers and Dr. Pepper aren't easy. But it is worth it to take long drives to pretty places. Perhaps they can join a travel club. Go see places without having to take the wheel themselves. 

My aunt is home now too, but not earthbound any longer. My cousins are strong. Jesus does big work when there are big things. Phantom pain is the worst part. The what-could-have-beens and the what-should-have beens are always present but also unworthy of our fretful pain. The what-it-was is the reality and the whats-to-come hold beautiful promises. 

Affected by so much, feeling so deeply, and bonding so quickly have resulted from the in-between. The place where my heart stands, where my mind rests, where my body fidgets. It was so much to be in the midst of for the week. But it was exactly where I needed to be.

This morning I am reminded to be grateful, for these have been earned tears. I'm crying on behalf of others. Doing what they could not, praying when they could not. I'm being their in-between. 

1 Timothy 2:1 The first thing I want you to do is pray. Pray every way you know how, for everyone you know. (MSG)

1 Cornithians 12:26 When one of us suffers, we all suffer, and when one of us rejoices, we all rejoice. (My paraphrase)