A Note on THANKfulness...

It was almost a year ago that our family's world was... forever changed.

It was mid December when my husband, Trevor, was called away on business to Arizona. I wasn't too happy about him leaving in the middle of what was a very hectic and BUSY Christmas season for us here in Michigan, but I knew he had to go. It was only supposed to be a 3 day trip. He left on a Tuesday and was supposed to be back on Friday afternoon. No big deal. There and back.

But, God had different plans.

I don't know if you're like me, but there are times when... I just don't "feel right" about a situation. And this was one of those times. I remember the morning he left for the airport. He had left just moments before we had and as we turned left and he turned right, I remember thinking about how much I loved him and how much we were going to miss him. Anyone who knows me - knows I am pretty sentimental about these sorts of separations, but this one... this time... it just... felt different.

Two days into his trip I received a phone call from him saying that he was going to have to stay an extra 2 or 3 days in Phoenix. Apparently, there were some problems on one of the vehicles they were up-fitting and this was going to require an extra stay.

I was bummed. This meant that he wasn't going to be able to do last minute Christmas shopping with me and it also meant that I was solely responsible for all of the final Christmas arrangements that needed to be made. Shoot!

On Friday morning I received a phone call from Trevor asking me what he should take for an upset stomach. "I think I had some bad Mexican food or something" he said when he called to ask me whether he should take, "Pepto or Kaopectate?"

We finished the conversation with him telling me he was going back to the hotel to go to bed for the night. I should have known then - that something wasn't quite right... it was only 5 o'clock in the afternoon!

After a rough night of sleep, he woke up not feeling any better. In fact - he was worse! So - after MUCH encouragement (okay... persisting) from me, he decided to go to the hospital to "get checked out".

Boy - am I glad he did.

My husband was having a diverticulitis attack and this time - it was more severe then the other times he'd had them. So much to the point of needing to be hospitalized immediately and consulting with a physician about surgery!

Surgery! I thought to myself. This is a man who can't even remember the last time he had BLOOD DRAWN. This is a man who's not a fan of needles and dreads the mere thought of a doctors office! How can we be talking SURGERY?!

You know - God is SOO good. I believe sometimes He keeps us from knowing certain things that will ultimately cause us worry or grief. And let me just say right now - I am MOST thankful that I didn't know the severity of His diagnosis until after I arrived in Arizona!

After consulting with the doctors, it was determined that my dear husband was in very bad shape. What we would later learn is that he had a perforated bowel and was "septic"... an extremely dangerous situation that has a very slim survival rate. The fever that had been so bad for 2 days was a warning sign that his body was in grave danger and had he NOT arrived when he did... he may very well have not survived the next 24 hours.

On December 21 my daughter and I arrived in Phoenix, Arizona via a 7 p.m. flight from Detroit. During that flight, Trevor would be undergoing major surgery (second only to open heart surgery).

For some strange reason I was peaceful. I knew he was in good hands and I knew that by the time we would arrive at the hospital, this ordeal would all be behind us. We could then get on with a "normal" Christmas.

Once again, God had different plans.

We arrived at Chandler Regional Medical Center at just after midnight on December 22. Because of the H1N1 scare, all children under the age of 13 were not allowed inside the hospital without special permission from the house supervisor or at the bare minimum a face mask and NO child was getting past the first floor. This made it very difficult for us as Chloe was only 9. However, after some persistence and discussion with the house super, we were allowed to go up to see daddy (who we were told was on the fourth floor) as long as she kept her mask on and never left my side. To make her feel less "funny looking" with her mask on, I decided to put one on too. We looked like quite a pair, and certainly daddy would think we were silly and get a good chuckle from it too!

The ride up the elevator to the fourth floor was one of the longest of my life. I was so excited to see my husband recovering nicely or even just sleeping peacefully.

When the doors to the elevator opened up there were 2 nurses standing side by side to greet us. What I remember more clearly then anything else is that they both looked at Chloe as though they were surprised to see her. As we laughed and joked about our masks, it didn't seem to change the seriousness of the look on their faces. And that felt... really odd.

I remember... I was nervous at this point. Why weren't they laughing too?

Almost immediately one of the nurses took me by my arm and said something to me I don't think I will ever forget. She said, "Mrs. Bender, we need to talk to you in private please."

At the same time, the other nurse was taking my 9-year-old to the nurses station with her. I remember looking into the eyes of my sweet little girl with a mask on trying to keep it together for her without breaking down myself from the anxiety and discontent that was welling up inside of me. Hearing those words were indeed not what I was expecting to hear and certainly unprepared to handle.

The nurse led me down the longest hallway of my life. And I remember I began arguing with her to tell me that was wrong. "WHAT is it?" I begged her repeatedly as the tears flowed and the nervousness turned to overwhelming fear.

"Mrs. Bender, I'm not the nurse who was in with your husband during surgery, and I'm not sure I understand all that happened, but there were some complications and your husband isn't yet awake from the surgery."

As she continued, my heart sank. "After the procedure we took him to a regular recovery room where we take patients following surgery. At some point he became unresponsive and so we had to re-intabate him and he is currently downstairs in ICU."

I'm telling you now - NOTHING could have prepared me for hearing these words. Nothing.

I don't even remember exactly what happened next, except for them telling me that Chloe wouldn't be allowed to see him because of the "condition" he was in. So they took her away to another room with a bunch of stranger while I was taken to the room where my husband laid... unconscious.

I remember seeing my dear, sweet husband lying on that bed surrounded by all those wires and monitors. Definitely the scariest singe moment in my entire life. As I stroked his hair I remember CRYING out to God to spare his life. I wept as the unbearable images ran through my head. Images of life without him. Images of life as a single parent. Images of never seeing him laugh again, joke again or see his daughter be married. It's amazing the things that run through your head during a devastatingly painful experience.

After sitting with him a while nurses encouraged me to get some sleep. After all, I had a daughter who still needed me and I was in the middle of a gigantic city I knew nothing about.

They explained to me that he would be in that "condition" for a little while longer. His body had just underwent a tremendous amount of shock and they reassured me that they would be monitoring his every second of recovery.

That night, back at the hotel, was the longest night of my life. As I laid there holding my young child the sobs would not cease. On my knees I pleaded for one more chance to see my husband. I begged God for a miracle. Through my tears, I prayed and I prayed and I prayed and I prayed.

Like I've never prayed before.

For anything.

And every hour I called that hospital. Praying for good news.

And every hour I received the same response, "No Mrs. Bender, your husband has not woken up yet."

"PLEASE God" I begged, "PLEASE let me talk to him - one last time." "PLEASE God, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE."

And finally... one last phone call was made to the hospital.

This time... with the best news these ears could have heard.

"Oh, Mrs. Bender, your husband is awake and asking for his girls!"

DEAR GOD! THANK YOU!!!!! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!

I could barely get my hands to work to get my cloths on and get out that door of the hotel and into that rental car to take us to the hospital to SEE MY HUSBAND!

Praises to God filled that car. From both Chloe and I.

PRAISE God for this miracle of life.

PRAISE God for His grace and mercy.

PRAISE God for His provision.

THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!

I can never describe to you the joy that filled our lives that morning as we celebrated ONE more day with the man God designed for me to love. The overwhelming thankfulness we had far surpassed anything I'd ever felt before.

I believe God allows situations to happen in our lives that cause us to CLING to Him with FULL dependence which will in turn cause us to give THANKS to Him and PRAISE Him with everything we have!

This THANKSgiving I am thankful for SO many things.

I have been richly blessed.

I am THANKful for the miracle of LIFE.

May I NEVER take for granted another moment.

Every breath comes from Him and to Him I say... THANK YOU!