Where Was The Miracle?

The solution seemed simple to me. God would perform a miraculous healing of Michael from the deadliest form of brain cancer here on earth. As believers, we would give Him all the praise, live our lives grateful and full of grace, and Samuel would grow up with a father.

There must have been well over a thousand people constantly praying for Michael to beat this beast. And if God wasn’t listening to their prayers, then surely, he heard the desperate and innocent plea from an eight-year-old boy who regularly hit his knees to beg for his father to live.

For quite some time, the only miracle I could accept was Michael being here with me. I’m still struggling to reconcile that notion as I move through the difficult maze of grief. Everything in our home is the same as if Michael would walk in the door at any moment – and at times I expect him to do just that.

His clothes hang in the same place, his shoes are neatly lined in the closet, the nightstand holds the items he liked to have at hand, his books are on the shelf, his charming smile looks out from photographs, his side of the sink is ready for a shave and a shower, and the chair on the patio is waiting for him to drink his coffee and read the news.

Everything is here, just waiting on him. I am always looking for him. I think about calling or texting him. Many times, a day Sam laments, “I miss Dad.” And although I know in my heart Michael is very much alive, the pain of not being able to physically hold him, hear his voice and see his now closed eyes is raw.

So, I search for the miracles I may have missed by being focused only on the one that didn’t happen.

Many times, in the Bible it is written a man’s days are determined (“A person’s days are determined; you have decreed the number of his months and have set limits he cannot exceed.” Job 14:5). So many memories have come flooding back in this past week and I remember Michael commenting the day we received the news the tumor was back, “Our time is in God’s hands. I plan to fight, but this is all in God’s hands.”

I want that peace my sweet husband had in his heart.

In our free will our paths take many turns and directions, but we have a set time to live. In talking with a friend this past week, I was reminded not to view God in front of a control board intermittently determining whose prayer is answered while others go unanswered, or who is “blessed” while others are overlooked.

The truth is, there were many miracles along the way I need to remember:

1) Despite having a very aggressive brain cancer that can inflict debilitating pain – Michael never experienced pain other than right after surgery. Even in the last six months the only pain he had was a muscle cramp in his leg one night. He never even had a headache or had to take pain medication.

2) Michael was never sick or had abnormal blood tests during all his radiation and chemotherapy treatments.

3) From the time the cancer was found, we had 14 months to live a normal life but with purpose and focus. All too often when a Glioblastoma is discovered, a person experiences debilitating symptoms and is given three to nine terrible months. Despite being told Michael had four weeks at best on Christmas Eve, we enjoyed six more months together.

4) I was able to keep Michael home. Other than a couple of short hospital visits, he was in the care and company of loved ones up until the day God called him home. He had a beautiful view, enjoyed home cooked meals, slept in his own bed, and was comforted by his surroundings.
And those are just a few of the miracles related to the time from Michael’s diagnosis until his death.

When I reflect on the many years since we met, I can clearly see so many times God was moving us, using us and holding us. Since we were older and it was our second marriage, Michael told me although he might not be able to give me the most years of his life, he would give me his best. And he did. It was a miracle we found each other. It was a miracle we stayed together at times. It was a miracle that we started with nothing and that our love only grew stronger each day even with all the odds being stacked against us.

And if the real miracle is despite all the twists and turns of our lives, God allowed me to be the one to care for and love Michael through the greatest challenge of his life, and to have the full knowledge as he took his last breath on earth he was completely loved, cherished and adored – then I am honored – even as I struggle to care for the gaping hole in my heart.

And knowing that I too believe God sent his son to die for our sins so when my day comes, I can have eternal life in Heaven with God, Michael, my children, my loved ones… then that is the greatest miracle of all.