God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. ~Psalm 46:1
This has been a week when Danny and I have turned continuously to God for refuge and strength. With every breath, we have asked the Lord to walk with us, to hold us up in His righteous hands, to turn the seemingly impossible to the absolutely possible for us.
He has done it!
Here's the background story:
Last Thursday, we set out on a trip to Brunswick, Georgia, in order to attend my SIL's mother's memorial service on the following Saturday. We think, too, that this could serve as a mini-vacation for us and a chance to physically reunite with family.
We book an Airbnb on St. Simon's Island within walking distance of the beach; a perfect place to visit during the off-season. Friday morning, after breakfast, we take a stroll on said beach. As you can tell from the photo above, it is an extremely foggy day, and the nearby fog horn loudly sounds its warning. Danny likes nothing better than being in the midst of a misty day. We are yet to discover just how foggy this day will become.
When it's time for lunch, we drive to the Village on St. Simon's to dine at Barbara Jean's, a restaurant renown for their excellent crab cakes. Oh, my, their reputation proceeds them! Such a lovely treat we enjoy, and look forward to chowing down on more seafood during our stay.
We return to the Airbnb; Danny is fine for about an hour. Suddenly, he tells me he's feeling woozy. I suggest he go to the bedroom and rest for a bit. No sooner does he recline, then he shouts, and I mean SHOUTS my name. His pacemaker is shocking his heart with a force he's never experienced before. As I hastily dial 911, I'm trying not to panic. I've never seen Danny in such excruciating pain, a pain that has his body flailing beyond his control; and we are praying and pleading, confessing our forever love for God and each other.
It seems like a week before the ambulance finally arrives and the medics sweep Danny out of the house and on to the hospital. I don't ride with them because I need to get in touch with my brother. Of course, Bill is more than willing to get me to the hospital as soon as humanly possible. Why don't I drive myself? I am shaking uncontrollably and certainly not confident being behind the wheel in such a state. The last thing we need is another crisis on the heels of this one.
Once at the hospital, the nurses and doctors successfully stabilize Danny with the utmost are and attention. He is transferred to the ICU for observation overnight, which is the safest place he can possibly be. By the time I see him, he is calm and the color has returned to his face. Talk about feeling encouraged and hopeful!
Long story short, the resident cardiologist sees him repeatedly (how many times does that happen on a weekend???). It is decided to replace the pacemaker on Monday. Now, I'm a bit concerned, because the last time Danny had an issue with his device, we were out of town, just like now, and the wound became infected. I am praying, praying, praying!
While all this is transpiring, Danny's two boys, Giovanni and Nicco, are heading our way at a clip. I don't know how we would have navigated these stormy seas without them. Danny is released from the hospital on Tuesday, we stay in a hotel that night, and the next morning, we hit the road for home. Giovanni drives our Subaru as wife, Hope, takes his car back to Florida. She is a life-saver, too!
Giving thanks and praise to God is just as natural as taking a breath. It is non-stop. Now that we are home and settling back into our usual routines, Danny and I are slowly adjusting. Both of us have experienced PTSD-type episodes; fortunately, they don't linger too long, but certainly indicate the severity of the trauma we've experienced.
With God's help as our refuge and strength, these, too, will dissipate in time.
Because life goes on, with or without us. And while we have breath, we should never cease to love God, seek Him, thank Him, praise Him.
Until the Lord calls us home, let us cherish and live life to the fullest.
Amen!