Going home

Tomorrow I will go home after 13 days and nights in the hospital, 10 of them in ICU. Leland is driving me back with supplemental oxygen (if needed) and there will be oxygen at home when we arrive. I've lost 10 lbs. and a lot of muscle. I get winded walking around the hospital room. But I am getting stronger and feeling better every day! Most of the day I haven't needed any oxygen.

The song that keeps coming to mind is Freedom. I can’t say I’ve ever been able to move my body like Jon Batiste and his entourage—and I probably never will, no matter how strong my lungs are—but the song captures how I feel on the inside.

I’ve also been reflecting on Christian Brady's writings on the Psalms and lament. They offer “a healthy model for our own journey through grief: cry to God, lament, confess our faith, call God to action, and praise God.” Excerpts from Psalm 86 resonated with me:

Hear me, LORD, and answer me,

for I am poor and needy.

Guard my life, for I am faithful to you;

save your servant who trusts in you.

You are my God; have mercy on me, Lord,

for I call to you all day long.

Bring joy to your servant, Lord,

for I put my trust in you.

You, Lord, are forgiving and good,

abounding in love to all who call to you.

Hear my prayer, LORD;

listen to my cry for mercy.

When I am in distress, I call to you,

because you answer me….

Teach me your way, LORD,

that I may rely on your faithfulness;

give me an undivided heart,

that I may fear your name.

I will praise you, Lord my God, with all my heart;

I will glorify your name forever.

For great is your love toward me;

you have delivered me from the depths,

from the realm of the dead….

Give me a sign of your goodness,

that my enemies may see it and be put to shame,

for you, LORD, have helped me and comforted me.

***

I can't really say that I have any enemies (or frenemies, for that matter), but I am tremendously grateful to my friends and family, as well as the doctors, nurses, and other healthcare professionals, for being signs of God's goodness during the lowest, scariest time in my life.