I love you, I need you to survive".
I need you ~ Hezekiah Walker
Today, while talking to a dear friend, I said the most ungraceful thing a person could probably say. No, really. I told her that if one more person told me they would be praying for me, I would scream. Most likely inside my own head, as I'm too well-assimilated to realize that screaming at someone would be the faux-pas of the year down here in Dixieland, but still. A good God-fearing southern woman does not scream when someone offers to pray, not even inside her own
You see, the past couple of days have been a challenge, and definitely prayer-worthy. This is true. On Friday, Ozzie was admitted to the hospital with a vague stomach-ache, which quickly turned into appendicitis, which quickly turned into a ruptured appendix, which turned into somewhat of a nightmare involving infections, white blood counts, NG tubes, antibiotics, and fevers. While things are looking up at the moment, we're still waiting on some pathology results, and until then, I'm not breathing easy.
So, as anyone can imagine, our lives have been a maelstrom of madness since Friday night. Not in the least because it was the end of the semester for me, with lots of grading, finals, and deadlines, as well as the end of the semester for husband-dear (who is working on his master's), a promotion and the start of a new job for him on Monday, and the fact that, oh hey, we have a second kid who picked this very week to take the concept of "struggling in school" to a whole new level. Oh, and Tricare was being difficult. Per usual. So. To say we have been stressed out would be the understatement of the year. We take shifts at the hospital to be with Ozzie, confer with one another via phone and text messaging, when we've had the time to cook, we've cooked three meals at a time, because who knows when we might be near a stove again, and don't ask us anything, because we probably won't remember the question. Now we're all in good spirits, everything is working out, and we're getting done what needs to be done, but we're just really freaking busy. So busy that the pool cleaner got left in the pool all weekend because I didn't have 15 minutes to take it out (first world problems, I know), there are tumbleweeds of dog hairs in the kitchen, and our Christmas decorations are half up and half still in the boxes. The logistics of having a child in the hospital are just something I wouldn't wish on anyone.
But what do people tell you when you relate how your weekend was?
"I'll pray for you".
That's it.
They will pray. Now don't get me wrong, I think that's fantastic. If everyone who says they'll be praying actually is praying, Ozzie is covered. The fact that people in our church are praying is wonderful.
But.
And here is my evil 'but'. The one that makes me blush in shame, yet it's there.
But at the same time, you know, I have enough faith in God to know that Ozzie is good. I pray, my husband prays, God listens, we're cool.
But.
We could have so used some real, practical help. Like with food. Or stupid simple chores. Or driving around. Yes, prayers are great. But you know what was really wonderful? When my neighbor (who, let the record state, does not go to church) called to ask me what night she could bring dinner. Or when two old friends who now live across the country got together and emailed us a gift card to a local restaurant. Those simple acts of kindness made me cry.
Look, I'm not perfect. Yes, I've cooked plenty of meals for people, but I've also not signed in on numerous meal trains. I would just be too busy to cook for anyone. I've refused to cook meals for people with babies who had half their grown in-laws visiting. I've complained about people who needed meals and then insisted you bring the food in containers they could keep. So, yes, I'm not perfect. But I also don't offer up, "I will pray" instead. If I can't help, I will tell you, and I will tell you why.
I realize we're all imperfect. In an imperfect world. I know this. But in a part of the world where people are so hell-bent on being Christian, on serving the Lord, on reminding you that "Jesus is the reason for the season", I guess I feel that prayer is all find and good, but shouldn't you want to put your money where your mouth is?
So, there's my rant for the day. While writing this, I've been interrupted by two nurses checking on Ozzie, adjusting IV drips and giving the poor kid shots in his abdomen, and so I'm not sure how offensive I've actually been. I do know that I love praying people, I love God, and I love the fact that tonight we don't have to worry about dinner, because we have a gift card from Olive Garden. And yes, I love you too :)
