We are handing in the keys to our temporary home tomorrow. After almost 11 months, this place is no longer needed.
The most intense part of my husband’s Leukemia treatments are behind us.
We spent 3 weeks at our real home this month and returned here this week for Bob’s check-up and biopsy. He’s still in remission and we are going home for good now only to return for periodic cancer checks.
As I walk through the rooms of this small apartment packing up the last of our belongings, I can’t help but think back on all that’s happened here. There were many days of uncertainty. Many lonely nights for me as Bob spent days, weeks, months of his own lonely days and nights in the hospital for treatment.
There were dressing changes, IV magnesium and antibiotic infusions done here and long periods of time when all Bob could do was sleep in this space that we called home. And all I could do was feel helpless — with only a prayer in my heart — as I watched him go through his suffering. There were several emergency trips to the hospital after the bone marrow transplant, because of infections, virus’, graft vs host rashes, low blood pressure and a fall that ended up with a stitched forehead. Then there were the re-admittance to the hospital times, because those side effects and illnesses became serious.
And there were times when I looked up and asked, “Where are you God?” There were times when Bob cried out, in familiar to us words,…”My God, my God why have you forsaken me?”
And that’s when Christ identified with us. That’s when His presence became more real. That’s when His compassion flowed into our hearts and uplifted our spirits.
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows. 2 Corinthians 1: 3-5
And that’s when suffering becomes a gift.
So we leave this place changed. We are forever changed and forever grateful knowing that God won’t waste our pain and grateful for this apartment that so often became our holy ground even in the middle of the not so wonderful times.
God doesn’t waste a second of our suffering. There’s purpose in everything and the hardest of times, those times of trouble prune away the unnecessary to make room for the necessary.
( I shared how this apartment was provided for us here: Your answer could be right around the corner and a little of our holy ground experience here: An Unexpected Gift)