When There Just isn’t a Fix

As a guy, I want to fix things which I perceive are broken.  Sometimes these are objects:  a squeaky door, a shorting light fixture, the lawnmower, the car, etc.  Sometimes these are situations:  difficulties at work, disagreements with Emily or a friend, etc.

This overwhelming need to fix things extended to Gabriel’s chronic medical issues and disabilities.  I left my teaching career to concentrate of Gabriel’s needs.  When not caring for Gabriel, I spent my time reading and studying North Carolina benefits programs.  I would research each of Gabriel’s doctors.  And when the doctors were having difficulty dealing with Gabriel’s gastrointestinal issues, I began blending a formula with all of the nutrition and calories the research suggested Gabriel needed and thin enough to flow through his gastrointestinal feeding tube.

This overwhelming need to be a part of the fix led to many nights spent with Gabriel during his hospitalizations.  During the last four weeks while Gabriel was at the hospital, I rarely left his (or Emily’s for that matter) side.  I would argue with anyone who suggested that I sleep elsewhere than at Gabriel’s feet in the PICU.

So, when Gabriel’s condition worsened and he passed away; I spent months feeling his passing constituted a colossal failure on my part.  I did not even understand until this past weekend that this was at the center of my grief for Gabriel.  In the end, I could not protect Gabriel.  I could not fix his illness.  I could not spare my wife, Emily, the pain of our son’s home-going.

This past weekend, Emily and I ventured to Tennessee to spend the weekend with other couples whose children have preceded them to Heaven.  The weekend was sponsored and facilitated by David and Nancy Guthrie, themselves bereaved parents of Hope and Gabriel.

Among many other things, we were reminded of God’s sovereignty.  We were encouraged that despite all the evidence to the contrary, Jesus is sovereign over death itself.  “When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead. But he laid his right hand on me, saying, ‘Fear not, I am the first and the last, and the living one. I died, and behold I am alive forevermore, and I have the keys of Death and Hades.’” (Revelations 1:17-18 ESV)(And to be completely fair, I have read this verse many times.  Not until the Guthries presented it at the retreat have I thought of this in relation to Gabriel’s home-going.)

So wait!  You mean that no matter how many more sleeplessness nights I did or did not experience or how many more medical therapies we did or did not attempt; Gabriel’s passing does not constitute an epic failure on my part!

 

When this thought occurred to me on Saturday mid-day, a shutter traveled through my body!  I began to sub.  I realized for perhaps the first time that I had actually done all I could have done.  During Sunday worship, our hosts used the illustration that Jesus had opened the door of eternity, called our children’s names, and carried our children through.

By the end of the weekend, a weight had been lifted from my soul.  I could again believe what family, friends, ministry partners, and strangers had all been saying for months (and some even years).  I could again believe that by the grace of God, by His strength, and with His wisdom; I had been the best Dad to Gabriel – second only to his Heavenly Father.

Gabriel’s body was broken!  The fix did not come on this side of eternity.  As Jesus says in John, “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him.” (9:3 ESV)

To again barrow from our words during days following Gabriel’s passing.  We did not get the miracle for which we prayed, but (by divine design) Gabriel got the miracle he deserved.