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Without Hade. Hospice

Ding dong, Avon calling.

When I was a kid, there was a lady who would come by our house and leave a catalog of beauty products on our door. It was packaged in a neat little clear plastic bag and always had some cool samples of wrinkle cream, eye-shadow or perfume in it. You would dream through the catalog, place your order with the Avon lady and then in a couple of weeks, ding dong, she would ring your doorbell, and there she stood, delivering your dream items in a tidy white lunch sack along with the next exciting catalog. In a way, she was like a human You shop, you order and they deliver.

Hayden and I had a similar experience recently. The nice ladies from Klamath Hospice came over to our home, we listened to the different items they had available, and we placed an order with them. Kinda weird right? We could order anything we thought Hade might need these next few weeks or months to make her transition from life to death easier.

So, we ordered a bed with a cool control that could raise or lower your head and feet. We got a small wheelchair that she can take with her to the store and a convenient bedside table that you can raise and lower if you want to eat or read from it. I really appreciate hospice and their kindness to dying people. It’s a wonderful service, and I highly recommend using them. The hard part for me is hospice is for dying people. Hospice is a service to help make people getting ready to die more comfortable in their home.

I guess this was when I started having a blinking problem. You read it right. No, not a “drinking problem, “I really said a blinking problem. I can’t explain it, but as the hospice ladies were sitting there, I just started blinking. Like if I blinked enough I was going to wake up, and they’d be gone, or blinking would help me focus better, and I could make sense of what was going on. This went on for a couple of weeks until my mind caught up with my eyes and all that I was seeing unfold before me. It took me a while to accept that my kid needs hospice and she is no longer just sick, but she is dying. My sweet, beautiful girl is dying. I can’t blink this fact away.

God has been patient and kind to me as he has been letting my mind catch up with my eyes. This transition is not easy, and He knows that. We do not serve a savior that did not suffer or one who can’t understand our pain and sorrow. In fact, Jesus has warned us many times in His word that suffering is coming and don't be discouraged or let it take you by surprise. Yes, a delivery is coming to your door. God does not always tell us why he delivers storms, only that He will be with us in them.

A few days ago, my doorbell rang and standing there were a couple of nice young men making a different kind of delivery to my home. A cool remote-controlled bed, a small wheelchair, and a bedside table. This isn't anything I would have ordered, and I don’t really want this delivery, but I am going to trust God in it. God has made a delivery to our home, and He has promised to be with us in it.

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