My husband spent the night in the intensive care unit with dad while mom and my sister-in-law went home to catch some sleep. Dad slept through the night, but he had another bad spell again at 5 AM with difficulty breathing. He needed deep suctioning. He is resting peacefully now. There is no change other than that. He is unaware of those around him, taking oxygen and IV fluids around the clock. The nurses say he is not in pain, for which we rejoice.
We must continue to pray and wait.
Mom and my sister-in-law arrived at the hospital this morning at 6:30 AM, and my husband is on his way home.
My daughter slept with me last night. We held each other in the night–mother and daughter–staving off the gnawing pain of loss and the dark cloud of death that is enveloping us now as Papa wrestles between life and death.
The promises of God are especially sweet now, and I understand in crisis why God’s Word is called the “bread of life.” It is that which sustains when nothing else will.
“I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.”