January 8 – “Power in a name”

 

 

They put Chris' Dad on a breathing machine yesterday, because his blood pressure kept dropping and he was having trouble getting enough oxygen.  Then we found out last night that they did an EEG to check brain function.  Chris plans to head up again today to see if she can talk to a doctor and get some specifics about what's going on.

 

While she was in Houston yesterday I went in to get Mom out of bed, usually Chris' daily task.  After two attempts and after Chris called to tell me she was leaving the hospital, I tried a different tactic.  I walked into her room and said, "Chris just called.  She's on her way home.  You might want to get up before she gets here."  Her eyes flew open.  She whipped the covers off.  She swung her legs over and was out of bed in an instant.  Wow.  All I had to do was mention Chris.  That's some power in a name.  I think there is a lesson on spiritual warfare in there somewhere.

 

I did another wedding in the afternoon.  It was lots of fun.  Big family.  Uncle Hughie played the guitar and sang two songs.  I talked to him after the service.  He said he was always intimidated to sing in front of his family, especially his sister.  I asked why.  He did a great job.  He said she sings professionally and he always gets introduced as her brother. 

 

The other day when Cailyn was here, we decided … well, she decided … that she was a doctor and I was sick.  She set up shop in my office with her new medical kit she got for Christmas.  Then she came into the waiting room where I was (I thought it was the den, but I guess waiting rooms also have TV's, too).  She took me by the hand and said, "Ur turn."  I had no idea what it was my turn for until we got to my desk and I was instructed to lie down.  Of course I obliged, and she took my blood pressure and listened to my heart.  Then she remembered something.  I don't know what it was.  Or maybe she received a page from one of her imaginary friends over in the imaginary ER.  But she stood up and started to rush away.  I raised up from my makeshift bed on the floor to see what was happening, and she stopped dead in her tracks, turned to look at me.  Her finger formed into wagging position and she forcefully commanded, "You stay right there.  I be right back."  I started to argue, "But I'm just gonna …"

"No," she snapped, stopping me in mid-sentence.  "Don't you get up.  You unnerstand me?"  Yes, ma'am, Doctor Cailyn.  I unnerstand you.  The floor suddenly got very comfortable.

 

Isaiah 46:4 says, "Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you.  I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you."

 

Father, it's good to have a promise like that now that I'm the one with gray hairs and old age.  Amen.