Day 71
Petering Out
Did you know that large whales can fast for months? Porpoises, on the other hand, cannot store up enough energy to survive for more than a week without food.[i]
My wife and I looked for several years for a child to adopt to fill a void in our family. Our son Gus yearned for a playmate. Gus was 10. We thought it would be cool to find a younger brother for Gus who was about five years old. We found Jimmy.
Jimmy came from Mexico. His bronze skin tone, infectious smile and friendly, playful disposition seemed to be a perfect fit. After completing mounds of paperwork and a final round of medical exams, Jimmy became our son. Gus was ecstatic.
Three days after Jimmy entered out family, he became lethargic. We took him to the doctor and dispensed the antibiotics according to instructions. By day six, Jimmy was noticeably worse. He had no appetite, began to whine and clearly felt rotten. We returned to the doctor and had a full set of lab tests completed. It would take three days to get the results. We returned home and gave him the aspirin and new fangled antibiotics the doctor had prescribed. We began to pray in earnest.
By day ten, the lab results were in and Jimmy was diagnosed with a rare blood disorder. He was running a high fever and had become dehydrated. He was admitted to the hospital in serious but stable condition. We called friends and asked them to begin praying for Jimmy.
On day eleven the hospital called about 6:30AM and advised us that Jimmy’s condition was deteriorating. His condition had been downgraded to serious. More tests were ordered. He was being fed intravenously now. Jimmy appeared to be petering out. We gathered with friends to pray.
Day twelve began with a call from the doctor requesting our presence at the hospital. Jimmy’s condition was now critical. However, the medical staff had finally honed in on a specific diagnosis they wanted to discuss with us. We rushed to the hospital encouraged by the hope that Jimmy’s condition was now known and certainty in uncertain times is something we yearned for. We called our friends on the way to the hospital and asked them to be in prayer for all concerned. They agreed.
Jimmy had a bacterial infection in his heart. The prognosis was fatal; Jimmy had only a few days to live, “if that.” The doctors agreed that we should take him home during the day, returning him to the hospital for the night so he could be properly hydrated and medicated to maintain his comfort.
From day twelve to sixteen we brought Jimmy home first thing in the morning and returned him to the hospital about 9:00PM at night. Those three and a half days were precious. Even though he couldn’t speak, Jimmy’s eyes and presence spoke for him. My wife and I spent this time caressing him in every way imaginable. Although he was just 10, Gus seemed to understand what was going on. Yet, he was as perplexed as we were, even though he may have been incapable of expressing it. You could hear it by looking in his eyes.
I can recall the questions Jacki and I shared with one another, out of earshot from Gus and Jimmy. These included, “Why is this happening? Life is not supposed to occur this way! What did we do to deserve this! Why us? Why does Gus have to witness this? Why Jimmy?” This situation was never contemplated. It was unthinkable. It wasn’t fair. Who could have ever predicted this? On day seventeen, Jimmy died during the night at the hospital.
Jacki and I went through all the emotions any parent endures during the grieving process. Our insurance didn’t cover the medical care. We went into debt to cover the $10,000 in medical expenses incurred during the last 4 days of Jimmy’s life. The adoption agency refused to return our adoption fee. The doctor who issued Jimmy’s certificate of health as a prerequisite for eligibility for adoption dodged culpability. He hid behind the fact that Jimmy’s infection was undetected by the standard battery of blood tests required. The condition could only have been identified by special tests that were not required. We attempted to evaluate and assess blame to the responsible parties. We were unsuccessful. We petered out.
When all the visible targets of our rage, shame and passionate pursuit of justice seemed to be petering out, we turned our disillusionment toward the invisible. God must be responsible. Jacki and I have some advice for you: It’s one thing to seek restitution, justice and understanding from the visible. If that doesn’t work out, get over it and get on with life. Don’t blame your inexplicable state of alienation on God. Don’t expect God to kick somebody’s ass on your behalf because you have been deeply wounded. Don’t expect a shining light, audible voice or sudden revelation to provide you with a concise and comprehensive explanation when you experience the unfathomable.
Jimmy taught us that life is not linear. Just because you expect good to be followed by better, doesn’t mean life actually happens that way. As one author suggests: “Life isn’t always chronological. The seasons of life don’t always come in linear order. In life as well as in global-warmed nature, sometimes summer follows autumn, and winter, spring.” [ii] Jacki and I had been suffering from an insufferable myth: Life is predictable. Yet, “What leaps out from the history of the past hundred years is its utter unpredictability.” [iii] When life doesn’t happen that way, people blame others, institutions and themselves. When the desire to extract justice, restitution and coping with comprehending the incomprehensible is not forthcoming from life, we transfer this disillusionment onto God.
Frankly, petering out is an indispensable part of the reality of this existence. God created us with the capacity to peter out. Imagine going through life holding onto your understanding of God, life, people, nature and culture that you had when you were ten years old. ( I know, I know – you’ve met some adults just like this ). The point is that we were formed to learn, to shed firmly held beliefs about this existence that have somehow become worn out. We don’t wake up in the morning and make lists of beliefs I am going to shed today. Nor do we wake up identifying new beliefs we are going to adopt.
The seas of faith are filled with Porpoise who have been fasting for far too long. They are attempting to hold onto beliefs they ingested when they were ten years old, assuming those same beliefs will sustain them into adulthood. When that spiritual nourishment falters, they blame people, institutions, culture and the like. What is predictable in life is the blessed capacity to peter out, surrendering the obstinate obsession with a fast that is killing us, pursuing the nourishment that awaits us in Him. We are created to hunger and thirst, as Brennan Manning writes, “Hungering and thirsting for more, disturbs complacency, induces a blessed state of disquiet, and propels our unending exploration into the mystery of God in Jesus Christ.” [iv]
Racing Greyhounds peter out. There are thousands of these amazing creatures euthanized every year because they have served their purpose entertaining man. Adopt a Greyhound. They’ll change your life. Jimmy did. Today, we have four.
NOTES
[i] Read, Andrew Porpoises Voyageur Press, Inc. Vancouver, B.C. Canada © 1999 by Andrew Read, p. 32.
[ii] Sweet, Leonard Soul Salsa – 17 Surprising Steps For Godly Living in the 21st Century, Zondervan, Grand Rapids, MI Copyright © 2000 by Leonard I. Sweet, p. 46.
[iii] Loeb, Paul Rogat The Impossible Will Take A While – A Citizens Guide To Hope In A Time of Fear, Basic Books, A Member of the Pereus Books Group, Cambridge, MA Copyright © 2004 by Paul Rogat Loeb, p. 64.
[iv] Manning, Brennan Ruthless Trust – The Ragamuffin’s Path To God, HarperSanFrancisco – A Division of HarperCollinsPublishers, Copyright © 2000 by Brennan Manning, p. 103.
