August 23 – “Win-win”

Chris and I made a trip into Texas yesterday.  We went to M.D. Anderson Hospital to see one of the fire fighter families.  Actually we have a double connection with them. Andy is a fire fighter, and I baptized his son Aidan at the Easter sunrise service a while back.  So I guess I’m chaplain and pastor to them.  His wife Katie is a real sweetheart, and they are really good friends with Nathan and April.  Katie’s Dad was admitted through the emergency room, and it had been determined that he was in sepsis.  The initial flood of testing had been completed, and the results were pending.  The family had carved out their niche in a corner of the ICU waiting room, and they were embroiled in that most difficult of situations that all of us eventually face – hurry … wait … hurry … wait. 

An uncle and aunt texted flight plans.  Hurry.  Calls and texts came in regularly from concerned friends.  Wait.  Andy raced off to arrange care for their children.   Hurry.  But not before he made arrangements for a nearby hotel room so the family could be close.   Wait.  All around them were families of other patients engaged in the same mind-numbing process, some nervously laughing, some silently crying, all hurrying through the tiny details of daily life so that they could gather there and wait … together. 

The most profound thing of all that I saw and heard from that tiny cluster of people who were Mr. Assad’s family came not from any of those seated before me.  Oh, they were the ones saying it all right.  I heard it no less than five times that I counted.  But the originator of the statement was not seated in in the waiting room with us.  He was lying in a bed in the ICU.  Back when he had been diagnosed with cancer, Mr. Assad had encouraged his family by assuring them that he was in a true “win-win” situation.  As Katie posted last night, “If he beat it, he got to stay here with us.  If he didn’t, he’d go home to be with The Lord, so either way was a win-win for him.”  He got past the cancer, but this particular infection he was fighting proved to be more than even his incredible fighting spirit could handle.  So not long after that reaffirmation of his faith through the words of his sweet daughter, Joe Assad “won.”  His family and friends will miss him and grieve for him.  But in their hearts they hold the hope of seeing him again when their own races are over and they, too, experience the win. 

John 14:1-3 says, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me.  In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you.  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.”

Father, I know you welcomed Joe last night.  And I know he’s fine.  Would you send one of your special hugs now to Debbie and Katie and Betsy and their whole family?  Thank you for that.  Amen.