Re-entry

Driving east on 64 was a little different this time as we headed toward Charlottesville. The last time we made that trip the miles were filled with dread, panic, and disbelief. This time the miles were still filled with disbelief, but also calm; at least this time we had some idea of what we were walking into. We parked in a spot closer to the elevator in the parking deck, walked knowingly into admitting, entered the elevator knowing what to expect, got off the elevator heading toward our room with confidence... only to find our room situation was very different. Here, in this room, was a crib, a chair... and that's about it. No double room with no roommate, no extra bed for a tired parent; no, this was not what we expected. Yet in the midst of all this we were strangely calm... I can only attribute this to the multitudes praying for us.

Apologies to all those who live in Charlottesville, but I can't say I have anything approaching an affinity for this city. My first experience here was a summer camp at UVA that was like many summer camps, that is to say full of insecurity, awkwardness, and general adolescent angst. My second experience was sitting up all night with my best friend and his family in this hospital after his little brother's tragic drowning... the image of the lobby of this hospital is indelibly burned into my memory from that. Next came a visit to the hospital to sit and pray with a member of our congregation who was recovering but never fully recovered. Now my experience of this city (though perhaps only this hospital) is irreparably joined to my son's cancer. I'm afraid nothing short of an honorary doctorate from Mr. Jefferson's University will change my existential strife over seeing the roadsigns for exit 118B (any of you that might be able to see such a thing happen feel free to contact me).

This afternoon passed rather uneventfully. A bevy of doctors came through talking about the procedures of tomorrow, the kind of anesthesia that will be used, the order of events, what exactly they're looking for, etc. Everyone is still very hesitant to say anything definite. I can't imagine what some of these doctors must have experienced with those for whom their first guesses, vocalized with the confidence that comes with inexperience, were proved dreadfully wrong. Whatever it was it is difficult to get even the beginnings of a hunch out of them. Perhaps there is something for me to learn there. Right now Andrew is sleeping... or he is supposed to be. Jess and I are sitting in the hallway waiting for him to drop off so we can reenter the room and prepare for bed ourselves. Tomorrow will come with all of its dreadful surprises and challenges yet tonight for some reason there is calm, laughing, even hope.

I say, for some reason, though I know very well why that is; many of you who are reading this, and many who never will, are praying even now for us. I think prayer is an idea until you really need it. Prayer is something Christians know they should do, even perhaps believe that it is useful, until it is all that is left. When all of your options have dissolved into the grace-filled nothingness that leaves your last hope as the only One you had in the first place, then you begin to understand prayer. This evening Jessie and I sit, like two hobbits on the brink of destruction and small talk because people are praying that we might persevere and that our boy might be healed. Tonight I think I will sleep well because I am beginning to learn what prayer is about and what Jesus longs to do through it as He heals the brokenness of the world through broken vessels like us... doing it all through our prayers.