Gotta Have My Pops

Five days ago the strongest man in the whole wide world had brain surgery. Today he can walk, talk, eat, laugh, and sass just as well as he always has--I can't believe it.

I feel bad saying that I can't believe it, but it's honest. To call the time leading up to my dad's surgery "scary" or "difficult" would be the understatement of the century. Given the year that I had just before this prefaces those sentiments well. It's not something that I really can go into now, you'll just have to wait on my first book release pending this May's graduation.

God can be trusted. 

He can. And since I'm sitting behind the keyboard of this blog, I can dictate the level of transparency that project to my readers. In the spirit of said transparency, I'm just going to throw out there that I didn't really know if I believed that He could be trusted leading up to all of this. I was upset with God a lot of this semester. I talked to God about being upset with Him frequently. It's not like God didn't know that I was upset--He's kind of a know it all. I love that Our Father welcomes our emotions and gives us the freedom to approach Him with them. 

There were countless times this semester I'd sit down with my Bible and just stare at text, illegible through my tear filled eyes. I would read stories of faith, and trust, and hear feel good sermons, and have encouraging conversations with friends and loved ones, and my struggles would remain--thinking that no one really understood my suffering. No one understood the unique kind of relationship that my dad and I shared. No one understood how bruised my heart was from the previous year's trial. No one understood my stresses as I balanced being a full time student, being involved in ministries  friendships, my church, my small internship, and the fact that my favorite person in the whole world had a brain tumor. No one understood my fears. 

Or so I thought. (How's that for a lede? #Journalisted)

Matthew 26:36-46 Then Jesus went with his disciples to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to them, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.” He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedee along with him, and he began to be sorrowful and troubled. Then he said to them, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.” Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.” Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. “Could you men not keep watch with me for one hour?” he asked Peter. “Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the body is weak.” 42 He went away a second time and prayed, “My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done.” When he came back, he again found them sleeping, because their eyes were heavy. So he left them and went away once more and prayed the third time, saying the same thing. Then he returned to the disciples and said to them, “Are you still sleeping and resting? Look, the hour is near, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise, let us go! Here comes my betrayer!

Mark 14:32-42 They went to a place called Gethsemane, and Jesus said to his disciples, “Sit here while I pray.” He took Peter, James and John along with him, and he began to be deeply distressed and troubled. “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death,” he said to them. “Stay here and keep watch.” Going a little farther, he fell to the ground and prayed that if possible the hour might pass from him. “Abba, Father,” he said, “everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.” Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. “Simon,” he said to Peter, “are you asleep? Could you not keep watch for one hour? Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the body is weak.” Once more he went away and prayed the same thing. When he came back, he again found them sleeping, because their eyes were heavy. They did not know what to say to him. Returning the third time, he said to them, “Are you still sleeping and resting? Enough! The hour has come. Look, the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise! Let us go! Here comes my betrayer!”

Luke 22:39-46 Jesus went out as usual to the Mount of Olives, and his disciples followed him. On reaching the place, he said to them, “Pray that you will not fall into temptation.” He withdrew about a stone’s throw beyond them, knelt down and prayed, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.” An angel from heaven appeared to him and strengthened him. And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground. When he rose from prayer and went back to the disciples, he found them asleep, exhausted from sorrow. “Why are you sleeping?” he asked them. “Get up and pray so that you will not fall into temptation.”

I was wrong. There is One who knows pain better, and one who knows rejoicing better. The Great Comforter knows comfort because He has endured pain to the point of death, even death on a cross. He knows rejoicing because has known life to the point of His resurrection. As I was in pain in this season of my life, we was as well. I will continue to experience pain in this imperfect world, and He will along side of me. He loves me so well. While I REJOICE that my dad NO LONGER HAS A BRAIN TUMOR and is on his way to a FULL RECOVERY, all of heaven rejoices along side of me. Praise be to God.

Leading up to and during my dad's surgery, I fixed my eyes upon the cross, and brought myself to the Lord's feet in prayer. The only place that my flesh wanted to move me was in the opposite direction. It wasn't my own strength that made me able come to Him, but the Lord's. If he chose to heal my dad I would praise Him, and if He chose to do otherwise, I would YET PRAISE Him because He has been good to me in delivering my life from death and giving me His Son. 

But I will hope continually and will praise you yet more and more. (Psalm 71:14)

Rejoicing alongside my family with my mom was such a sweet taste of what rejoicing with the Lord in heaven is going to look like. 

After my dad's surgery, they moved him to ICU, and as he was coming down off of the anesthesia they let us go in an see him. This was a giant mistake on my part. My dad was literally convulsing in his bed in ICU and was ripping at the tubes connected to him and was shivering. But he did recognize me. My tear filled eyes made contact with his glazed over ones, and he said "Hey Em." all the while nurses were on either side of him trying to make him calm down. His blood pressure was a terrifying 198/160, and he had heart rate to match it. I had to excuse myself into the ICU hallway and have a breakdown. 

I've been blessed to have an incredible relationship with my dad. Any daughter with a relationship with her dad like mine views her daddy as the strongest man in the whole wide world. In that moment, the strongest man in the whole wide world was being brutalized by pain and weakness like I had never seen before. My entire universe caved in for that 15 minute timespan.

The next morning, I went in to see him again, and he was sitting up in his chair eating some jell-o and some raspberry ice. Mom and I asked him how it was and he said with a smile, "It's not so bad!" His feet were moving back and forth at the foot of his bed like a dog happily wagging its tail.

At this point he was still on a considerable amount of narcotics.

 The next morning, we were greeted by my dad in his ICU room. He was standing. Dawn and I almost fell to the floor. I got to hug my dad, like a full, arms wrapped around him hug, less than 48 hours after someone was inside of his brain. God is so good.

So many adults in my life have talked through this with me, and I am thankful for them doing so. A majority of them have said, "I know that it's hard seeing the strongest man in the world in a hospital bed like that..." 

No offense to any of them, but I have never seen my dad, or anyone else in the whole wide world, exemplify strength in a better way than I saw my dad and hero exemplify it in the past week.

The Lord is strong in my dad, and my dad is strong in Him.

Mom and pop will be in Pittsburgh for a little bit longer. I'm en route to Aggieland right now. The nurses are unsure as to when he will be discharged. This morning, one said there was talk of sending him home before tonight, but mom and I weren't too convinced. He has a fever still, but all IVs, monitors, and other tubes that were attached to him have been disconnected. There is a lot of gauze in his head right now, which most have believed is causing toxic shock and is the reason for his fever. He has a bunch of packing coming out of his nose as well, and cannot breathe out of it, making him still extremely uncomfortable. BUT HE IS 100% TUMOR FREE, and most importantly, he's on his way back to being the daddy and Mattie that my mom and I love more than our words could ever express.

When I was little I started calling my dad "Pops." I think I got it from the 90s cereal commercial and slogan "Gotta have my Pops!" Most things in my triple chinned child hood were food inspired. Glad this one stuck, and that I still get to have my pops.

Praise God for mercy, miracles, healing, and giving me a dad that is a rockstar.

I hope that gene is hereditary.

LOVE.