We arrived early and the waiting room was full. This was a return visit; our first being six years prior. We were anxious, not knowing what the neurologist would say about the progression of Mark’s condition. I busied myself with writing and Mark read a book. Every few minutes, I’d look up as a beeper began to light up, the buzzer sounding, alerting patients that it was their turn. We waited, read, and observed those around us.
She looked to be in her early forties, and had no use of her bodily parts. Seated in a wheelchair, she was being fed by her sister as they waited. There was a sense of peace, joy, and tenderness about her. She was unable to speak, just grunting in response to her sister’s questions. Somehow they understood one another. Her sister knew when she was finished eating, and when she desired a drink. As I looked in her direction, our eyes met and she smiled at me, chocolate pudding all over her teeth. I smiled back and wished that I had known her story, for I was sure there was one! Her beeper lit up, buzzer sounded, and off she went.
Just a few minutes later, our beeper sounded; we packed up our belongings and made our way back. As our doctor entered the examining room, we spent the first few minutes getting reacquainted. He asked several questions concerning what was happening at this point in Mark’s condition, then handed us several pieces of paper informing us of what he felt Mark was suffering with. He told us that one particular test run six years before was not conclusive. But, with what he was seeing this day, and according to our answers to his questions, he was certain of what Mark had. I glanced down at the papers to see the letters: MSA- Multiple Systems Atrophy. As he explained the condition, he said that the life span for MSA is eight years. As I listened, I realized it had been seven years since Mark was diagnosed. I quickly put that thought out of my mind.
The doctor went on to say that the tests Mark would undergo that day would either prove him wrong or confirm his suspicions of MSA. The nurse came in and took Mark back for his testing; I returned to the waiting room. As I read the sheets informing me of where we were headed, I began to weep. I was overcome with sadness and grief. I could barely stand the pain. Suddenly realizing that I was in a very public place, I gathered my emotions and wiped away my tears. I sat in silence remembering back over the last hour and how “tough” I was while in the doctor’s presence, but then how quickly the tenderness of that moment in the waiting room overwhelmed me to tears. I thought about the young woman just minutes before sitting in her wheelchair completely dependent upon her sister; how tough she must be to live with her condition, but yet how she exhibited such joy, peace and tenderness.
I stand amazed at how God created women with the ability to be “tough” (hold it together in the midst of difficulty), yet tender. I thought about Hannah. She was a woman who must have been tough enduring the taunts of the “other” woman, Penninah, and surviving in a culture where being barren was a shameful thing. But then her tender side is exposed as she kneels before her Savior with a heavy heart, weeping and petitioning Him to fill her womb.
Sometimes I feel “tough,” and at other times the reality of where we are causes my tender side to ooze forth, which often results in a good cry. Then “tough” is required once again! I am grateful God knew at certain times in a woman’s life she would be in need of the ability to be “tough.” I am also grateful that He balanced “tough” with tender and allows us a good cry, which always makes us feel better, right?
dianne
Father, so many times “tough” has been required of me. I am not naturally tough, You know that. But, with Your divine help, I manage to find “tough” when “tough” is needed. Yet, in those moments when tenderness and tears ooze forth, I feel Your presence in a powerful way. Jehovah, thank you for giving me what I need when I need it. Thank you for tears that soothe the soul! I love You and I am grateful that on this short journey through life, I am never alone!
“Whenever Elkanah offered a sacrifice, he always gave portions of the meat to his wife Peninnah and to each of her sons and daughters. But he gave a doubleportion to Hannah, for he loved her even though the Lord had kept her from conceiving. Her rival would taunt her severely just to provoke her, because the Lord had kept Hannah from conceiving. Whenever she went up to the Lord’s house, her rival taunted her in this way every year. Hannah wept and would not eat. “Hannah, why are you crying?” her husband Elkanah asked. “Why won’t you eat? Why are you troubled? Am I not better to you than 10 sons?”Deeply hurt, Hannah prayed to the Lord and wept with many tears. Making a vow, she pleaded, “Lord of Hosts, if You will take notice of Your servant’s affliction, remember and not forget me, and give Your servant a son,I will give him to the Lord all the days of his life, and his hair will never be cut.” The next morning Elkanah and Hannah got up early to bow in worship before the Lord. Afterward, they returned home to Ramah. Then Elkanah was intimate with his wife Hannah, and the Lord remembered her. After some time,Hannah conceived and gave birth to a son. She named him Samuel,because she said, “I requested him from the Lord.” 1 Samuel 1:4-8, 10-11, 19-20
“I will not leave you or forsake you.” Joshua 1:5b