Midnight Shift

As the caregiver on call during the night I probably have the hard task of seeing Rebecca in the most pain. Since R can't move her body and lying in a bed flat all the time can have all sorts of repercussions we try to eliminate some of those issues by placing a body pillow on one side of her body so that she's tilted removing it when she's awake, and then at bed time we place the pillow under her body on the opposite side. One of the first tasks during mid-night turn is to take the pillow out and lay her flat again. Because of this shift in her position the rest of her body has to be physically moved by the caregiver so that it's in correct alignment. This can be a little difficult with the thousands of blankets we pile on top of her so that she's warm (imagine if you couldn't move in the night and pull the covers up closer to your head, or change positions, you'd probably be more apt to have a cold body temperature as well), but with Rebecca's help, if she's slightly awake, she can tell you if something's wrong so that she can be moved correctly. Most of the time it means pulling out a hip so that she's not laying on it, aligning her shoulders, moving the bolster to a different position under her knees, etc.

There was one particular evening that she was in a lot of pain. I wrote this in my journal about the incident:
Last night I was only called by Rebecca once (I keep a buzzer beside my bed at night so she can call if she needs me) and it was right before I was going down to turn her so it worked out fine. I had been sleeping, so I woke with a start and couldn't find my shoes. She kept ringing, so I knew I needed to hurry, but I didn't want to slip down the stairs. She was moaning when I came in, so I knew she was in pain. It really hurts my heart when she's in pain. For someone who's suffered much, to continue suffering in the way she does brings my eyes to tears. I rubbed her leg and ankle for a while. She took 5 Aleve and a big sleeping pill and 3/4 of another. As she was slowly reaching for her pile of sleeping pills next to her alarm clock (we keep a pile of already chopped up pills on a table that we place next to her bed so that if she needs them she can reach down and bring one up to her mouth) she said, 'this is so painful'. She went on to say that it didn't hurt, it's just painstakingly difficult. To work that hard to reach for a pill and then slowly and difficulty bring it up to my mouth is something I've never had to do. It brought that familiar liquid to my eyes as I watched her. I told her as I was about to leave that I'd be praying for her and she said, "Oh! Yes, come, let's pray...are you going to have a hard time falling asleep after this?" Oh! What grace and love the Father has given her to share with others. She then prayed and thanked God for pain and prayed that we would both be able to sleep well through the rest of the night. Aside from me lying awake thinking about it all, we both slept well. She never rang for me again and in the morning she'd forgotten about having any pain. I guess that's one of God's graces towards her.

I remember being afraid that her pain was a result of me positioning her wrong during bed time. I have fears that something I do will result in her pain, but she's assured me that her life (and death) are not in our hands but in the hands of our loving Father. As Rebecca said 'Thank you Lord for pain" in her prayer, my thoughts were, Uh, what? Thank you Lord for pain? My heart was hurting to watch her in this pain and she's thanking God for it? As I rested on my pillow that night I asked the Lord wasn't it enough that she was in so much pain when the accident initially happened? Wasn't pain through recovery enough? Why must she continue to be in pain? My thoughts in my journal the next day read like this: Lord, it hurts to see her in pain. I know it must hurt you too. It must pain you to see your own children suffer, and yet, You know there is more to it than just physical pain. Paul was able to say that all his troubles and afflictions were temporary, fleeting and nothing compared to the coming glory. Nothing. They don't compare. They don't hold a candle to all that will be better. The pains here, prepare us for the coming glory. God's given her so much joy and she's touched so many lives as a result of the pain she's been through and the pain she continues to go through. (Had she not experienced this pain I would not be here.) She's experienced God's love, grace, comfort and strength to a greater extent than I have. Her fellowship in His suffering is more mature than my own. She sits quietly before God's throne in confidence that He takes care of her, giving thanks in everything. This is a thankful heart. Without these pains she would not be the person she is today. And because God allows her this pain, I see it and others see it, and He is glorified and worshiped in our hearts because of it.

I think God does some of His finest work through pain. No, I don't think He enjoys inflicting pain upon His children, He's not malicious, but His concern is that His children are shaped in His image, refined to His glory so that we might better behold Him. His grace and His mercies and His power are seen in a new light amidst and after pain. We can praise the God of sovereignty, power and creation along with Job. Even when circumstances aren't understood, we can understand that the God who is sovereign over all of them has acted in love, for His glory and our good. Think about it...His biggest act of love for His people (equally an act of power and glory) was an act that caused His own Son the most pain imaginable...

Five times I received at the hands of the Jews the forty lashes less one. Three times I was beaten with rods. Once I was stoned. Three times I was shipwrecked; a night and a day I was adrift at sea; on frequent journeys, in danger from rivers, danger from robbers, danger from my own people, danger from Gentiles, danger in the city, danger in the wilderness, danger at sea, danger from false brothers; in toil and hardship, through many a sleepless night, in hunger and thirst, often without food, in cold and exposure. And, apart from other things, there is the daily pressure on me of my anxiety for all the churches. Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is made to fall, and I am not indignant? If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness. The God and Father of the Lord Jesus, he who is blessed forever, knows that I am not lying.           

2 Corinthians 11:24-31

Therefore we do not despair, but even if our physical body is wearing away, our inner person is being renewed day by day. For our momentary, light suffering is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison because we are not looking at what can be seen but at what cannot be seen. For what can be seen is temporary, but what cannot be seen is eternal.

2 Corinthians 4:16-18