Short-Sighted

Yesterday, I had what I think was my first post-surgery meltdown.  First, a little background.  My temporary ileostomy has been an issue for me since I was in the hospital where I had problems with my ostomy bags leaking.  So, I’ve been experimenting.  I tried out a new kind of bag a few days ago and just changed it yesterday.  One bag is supposed to last three to five days, and if you take it off before then, man, does it hurt.  They have a pretty strong adhesive on them that wears away over time, so if it hasn’t been on you for at least three days, it’s murder on a post-surgery belly to peel it off.  After putting this new bag on, I noticed more pain than usual.  I talked to my ostomy nurse and my home care nurse and the consensus was that I just need to give myself time to heal.  As my home care nurse said, that area around my stoma is “raw meat”, so some pain is to be expected.  Well, yesterday was three days with this new kind of bag, and when I changed it I found that it had just chewed me up around my stoma.  The skin at my stitches had bubbled up into blisters, and there was more blood than I’ve ever had changing the bag.  As you can imagine, the last thing you want to do with a blistered, bleeding wound is to stick something to it, but with a stoma, that’s pretty much what you have to do.  So with shaky hands and quite a few tears, I dealt with it.  Taylor came to check on me, and that’s when my meltdown happened.  I’m fine now, and I’m back to the old bag type which, while a nuisance, doesn’t seem to be as hard on my stoma.  But now one of the biggest thoughts bouncing around in my mind is how much I am looking forward to my second surgery after which I will no longer have to deal with an ileostomy.

I suppose this is progress.  This past New Years, it was hard for me to look forward to anything.  I kept remembering the New Years before when we were looking forward to the birth of our daughter and all the craziness and joy that would come with her.  But this New Years, all I could think about was this surgery with all the pain and frustration it would bring.  I couldn’t see past it.  In my mind, 2011 equaled joy. 2012 equaled dread.  Now that I am past the first hurdle of this more major of the two surgeries, I have hope again.  Hope for a smooth second surgery.  Hope for the reversal of my ileostomy.  Hope for slowly returning to something close to normalcy.

It was wrong for me, though, to not have hope before.  I am a short-sighted person.  If it’s not next on the agenda, it might as well not exist.  The only things of significance are those right on the horizon.  But today, our assistant pastor spoke on Revelation chapters 21 and 22, and I was reminded of the very real hope we do have.  It may a be a distant hope on a far horizon, but its significance should make all our present sufferings pale in comparison.  I just forget to look that far.  Here is our hope:

¹ Then I saw “a new heaven and a new earth,” for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. ² I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. ³ And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. ⁴ ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

 ⁵ He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”

 ⁶ He said to me: “It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To the thirsty I will give water without cost from the spring of the water of life. ⁷ Those who are victorious will inherit all this, and I will be their God and they will be my children.  Revelation 21: 1-7

²² I did not see a temple in the city, because the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are its temple. ²³ The city does not need the sun or the moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and the Lamb is its lamp. ²⁴ The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their splendor into it. ²⁵ On no day will its gates ever be shut, for there will be no night there. ²⁶ The glory and honor of the nations will be brought into it. ²⁷ Nothing impure will ever enter it, nor will anyone who does what is shameful or deceitful, but only those whose names are written in the Lamb’s book of life.  Revelation 21:22-27

It is not wrong for me to look forward to this next surgery and a completed recovery, nor to hope for good doctors and a healthy future.  But it is wrong for these things to be the extent of my hope, and it is wrong for me to despair when these things disappoint.  For “our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us” (Romans 8:18).  I am guilty of losing the eternal in the temporary, the significant in the mundane.  I have let my present dread steal my everlasting joy.  Surely, they are not worth comparing.

I don’t know what you face right now, but I know it is nothing compared to seeing His face.  Our current suffering is real.  Blisters hurt.  Surgeries suck.  Pain is pain, and loss is loss.  These are things to be grappled and wrestled with.  But there is a hope greater than just getting past these things.  There is a hope in the One who is coming to make all things new and who will wipe every tear from our eyes.

We sang this song by Andrew Peterson today, and I think the lyrics are worth a read:

After the last tear falls
After the last secret’s told
After the last bullet tears through flesh and bone
After the last child starves
And the last girl walks the boulevard
After the last year that’s just too hard

There is love, love, love, love
There is love, love, love, love
There is love

After the last disgrace
After the last lie to save some face
After the last brutal jab from a poison tongue
After the last dirty politician
After the last meal down at the mission
After the last lonely night in prison

There is love, love, love, love
There is love, love, love, love
There is love

And in the end, the end is
Oceans and oceans
Of love and love again
We’ll see how the tears that have fallen
Were caught in the palms
Of the Giver of love and the Lover of all
And we’ll look back on these tears as old tales

‘Cause after the last plan fails
After the last siren wails
After the last young husband sails off to join the war
After the last “this marriage is over”
After the last young girl’s innocence is stolen
After the last years of silence that won’t let a heart open

There is love, love, love, love
There is love

And in the end, the end is
Oceans and oceans
Of love and love again
We’ll see how the tears that have fallen
Were caught in the palms
Of the Giver of love and the Lover of all
And we’ll look back on these tears as old tales

‘Cause after the last tear falls
There is love

May God bless you and your neighbor through you, and may we all get better at taking the long view.

He who testifies to these things says, “Yes, I am coming soon.”

 Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.