It’s hard to believe an entire year has passed since we met Gid. It’s hard to encapsulate all that has happened since this time last year. I’ve been trying for a couple of weeks to figure out how to put all of this into words, and I think I might finally have figured it out. Thank you to all who have prayed for and encouraged us through all of this. You each hold such a special place in our lives.
I have been working in our local hospital for about two months now. And even in that short time, Gid’s impact has been abundantly clear. One of the toughest skills for a medical student to pick up is speaking with families about the imminent death of their loved one. Learning the nuances of being honest with your patients while also being compassionate is invaluable, but it doesn’t come easily.
My first time, I went in with a plan. My preceptor had already explained to the family the situation and their upcoming decision. I had all my medical terminology lined up, which I would then follow up with a time for questions and encouragement. But like most of my plans seem to, it fell apart when I walked in the door.
I was used to beeping monitors and ventilators at this point. But this room was different than the others. I immediately recognized the heaviness in the air, the weariness etched on the family’s faces, and the realization that this was the end of the line. There were no medicines we could give or surgeries we could perform to put life back the way it was. I was transported back to a similar looking hospital room only a few hours away with monitors beeping and a ventilator that was working overtime. Back to my own weariness. My own realization that there was no more to be done.
And instead of being crippled by my heartache, I felt inexplicable courage. For this family, this was uncharted territory, but for me it was all too familiar. We sat down, and I was able to encourage them through Gideon’s story that while today will be hard, every day will get a little easier. There is hope to be found, even in the midst of your darkest days.
When I left to go home that night, tears were shed in my car. In that moment, I missed my son more than I had in a while, but I felt such a palpable connection with him. And it wasn’t one of sorrow, but of gratitude. My son had given me the ability to speak into the lives of others in a way that I could never have imagined. I knew that my career in medicine would put me in a position to encourage hurting people. But to be able to do that with courage? In the absence of fear? Who could ever imagine something like that?
When tragedy strikes, we often ask “Why me? Why couldn’t this have happened to Jim Bob over there! I’m a good Christian who helps in the nursery/volunteers in the food pantry/etc.” But I think the question that became most apparent during this last year was “why not me?” Who on this Earth is better equipped to deal with struggles like these than a people who understand that this world is not all there is? Our world is filled to the brim with people facing catastrophic adversity who have no idea that there is hope to be found. And we, as Christians, are sitting on the truth that Christ has overcome the awfulness of this world. Why are we not kicking doors down to share this?
Penn Jillette, of Penn and Teller, once said this:
“I’ve always said that I don’t respect people who don’t proselytize. I don’t respect that at all. If you believe that there’s a heaven and a hell, and people could be going to hell or not getting eternal life, and you think that it’s not really worth telling them this because it would make it socially awkward…how much do you have to hate somebody to not proselytize? How much do you have to hate somebody to believe everlasting life is possible and not tell them that?
I mean, if I believed, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that a truck was coming at you, and you didn’t believe that truck was bearing down on you, there is a certain point where I tackle you. And this is more important than that.”
Penn Jillette is an atheist, and he makes this point perfectly. We can live our lives in fear of rejection or awkwardness, but what we are really doing is being selfish. And not just your run-of-the-mill selfishness, this is the ultimate act of self-centeredness. Placing our comfort over the eternity of others.
Be bold! Your experience, no matter what it is, has placed you in a position to speak into others. It could be your experience with grief, expertise as a turkey hunter, a past life as a drag racing superstar, or any number of things! You can speak into people that pastors, missionaries, and evangelists can only dream of. You have only to be courageous.
“Be strong and courageous; don’t be terrified or afraid of them. For the Lord your God is the one who will go with you; He will not leave you or abandon you.”
– Deuteronomy 31:6
Happy birthday sweet Gid. Our hearts will always long for you, but we will use what beautiful time you gave us to bring as many people with us to see you again.
meddreams 
Your and Morgan’s faith has provided so much for so many. Thanks for sharing.
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