Left Behind

Have you ever lived a day or a week and felt like your own life has passed you by? I mean, you have lived each day, but looking back, was it such a blur that you only remember bits and pieces? Then, add the lives of six other people in the mix; trying to stay on top of everything is exhausting…but so worth it.

For three years, I have lived my life in fear. It is not necessarily that I have stopped trusting God, but rather, not sure how to let go of my family so often. What I mean is that my family is more God’s than it is my own. I started this week with pleads to each of you that you pray for my daughter, Candice. I have to share a story about that day at the hospital.

The surgery lasted about an hour. (Thank goodness for The Office to keep us company.) Well, the doctor came and talked to us. She made it through with flying colors. She now has tubes in her ears, no adenoids, and a good-looking throat, aside from one vocal cord that is less-developed than the other. Well, it had been some time since the doctor had finished his conversation with us and we were waiting to see Candice in recovery. As family knows, I HATE waiting for someone to tell me I can see my family member. So, I went to find Candice. I stood outside the recovery room until someone came in or out. Finally, after a few minutes, the door slid open. From the doorway, I scanned each bed to find my baby girl. I see her. There she is. She is sitting up with a couple of nurses with her. She is looking around. She sees me!! She is now pointing at me and the nurses realize she and I are waving to each other. She is now reaching for me, even though I am 50 feet away. The nurses then wave me in. I get to be with her for a bit. I knew Liz was waiting for me to return to the waiting room, so I went to trade places and let her be with Candice. Twenty to thirty minutes later, Liz returned and said I should go back and be with Candi. She wanted me to hold her. I was able to hold her with all the wires connected to her until she was able to be moved out of the recovery room. Then, she wanted me to carry her while we went to the other room. Just felt so loved and needed and wanted.

Knowing that Candice was fine, I headed to Phoenix, Arizona the next day. But a few minutes before getting on the plane, I get a call from Liz saying they are doing an MRI on her head because of the headaches she is having. The doctor wonders if my wife’s brain is bleeding. “Have a safe flight.” Those who know me personally know that if there is a bit of bad news, A.) I jump to the worse-case scenario and B.) my stomach jumps through my throat and exposes itself. I, of course, begin to slightly hyper-ventilate. Here’s the real kick in the pants. The results won’t be back for a couple of days. So, in the mean time, blood could be filling my wife’s head. But in typical Team Dixon fashion, Liz tells me to go, to be careful, and if something happens, she will call for me to come home. We agree that she promises to take it easy, to only do the things that are needed and to lean on her family and friends. So, this life that keeps leaving me behind in it’s wake is at it again. I begin the week thinking and praying for my daughter and then I am on a business trip needing to sell the company’s product while most of my being is freaked out about my wife’s condition. One day at a time, right?

I get home very late on Valentine’s night. I am so very tired; physically and emotionally. I am home, but I am home. Know what I mean? As previously posted, time to bust out a different hat. Liz tells me that in addition to her head killing her, her leg has also begun hurting. Clot? How could her brain be bleeding because of how thin her blood is, but also cause a blood clot in her leg? I can’t think well enough to figure it out. I was starving before I got home…not any more.

And then some relief arrives late Friday afternoon. I had been at work when I got a text message letting me know I needed to hurry home so Liz could get to the doctor’s office as soon as possible. They are going to try and fit her in. After a couple of hours of being gone, she calls me. Her brain is not bleeding. Now, what is causing her pain, not sure yet, but at least her brain is not bleeding. Her blood is still fairly thin, so her pain her leg is more than likely not a blood clot, but still could be. Tuesday is the day for a series of tests to look at everything and look for the cause.

I have learned how to live a life of fear and fatigue. For the Christian, I know that where God guides, God provides. For the atheist, I KNOW that where God guides, God provides. I am a weak human being that is still learning how to live. I am a husband that is still learning how to provide. I am a dad that is still learning how to be the right parent for his children. Oh, and still have tons to learn about my job. (Passion isn’t inspirational to all.)

Sometimes, I feel like the country song that says,”…guess God was busy.” I know, I know, I know. God will never ever be too busy for anyone, but in my wee-little brain, yes, it can seem that way. God has zero need to consult with me on his decision-making, just would be nice to be included from time-to-time. I had a conversation with someone in Phoenix about prayer. I shared that I am done praying that vacation Bible school prayer. I now let God know what’s going on inside of me and what I like and don’t like about what He has allowed to happen. I fear God. I love my God. It’s like this. I know that my wife loves me, but I still gotta hear it. God knows I love Him, but He still wants to hear it and know what I need from Him. But it is like He leaves me behind. I feel lost, scared, afraid, and drained.

Here’s the deal. I get to see places I have never seen before. I get to meet tons of people that are doing a lot of amazing things. I get to collect pennants for my boys. I get to hug my girls and tuck them at night. I get to let my wife, who is the mother of FIVE, be a woman too. I GET to live this life. There will always be things I desperately want to change about myself and the life that I have been given. But the moment I begin to dwell on such, I am damning myself from all that I love.

“God, teach me to be more trusting of You. Make yourself more real to me everyday. God, you saved your Son for me…Now, I ask that you save my wife for me.”

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One Response to “Left Behind”

  1. It’s a little difficult for anyone to comment on such issues, as well as a blog this long and intense. What is interesting for me is for us to have prayed and meditated here in Portugal on most of these things that were going on last week and thinking about what each of you must have been feeling and dealing with after hearing from Liz about the possibility of a brain bleed causing the headaches and knowing you were traveling. Sounds like God allowed Mom and I to picture it just about right as we prayed. We’ll keep on and I’ll see you Saturday.

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