callmeloquacious

Honey for many years was a bus driver, in addition to pastoring. 2023 we had snow early on. While in Indiana, it would take a significant amount to make a difference, only a few inches in Arkansas can cause the world to shut down. That was the case with this particular day in January. After he completed his route, later than normal, he was not able to make it home. He stayed at a hotel about 40 minutes away, near the school and the church. But even after he came home, something was wrong.

There were signs that we didn’t really realize at the time. Hindsight as they say. Honey was exhausted. Always. In my mind, I attributed it to working and pastoring and a growing family (and a crazy pregnant wife!). But after the snow days, something was off. The exhaustion became more pronounced. And then there was the heart pain.

In his family, there is a history of heart disease, so he was more acutely aware when he felt pain. We drove to the emergency room soon after the snow day. They ran all the tests, checked his heart, his blood and referred him to a doctor. Additional tests. Despite the “all clear” at that point, Honey still had a feeling. Something in him that was sounding off.

After talking with his sister, he was reminded of a series of tests that were offered through the Heart Hospital. He signed up, but it would be August before his appointment.

So we waited. And watched. Papaw moved from our house into a near-by facility where he would receive additional care that we couldn’t provide. We had Asher (another story). My dad had a brain bleed (another story). And then it was August.

We had already decided that Honey was no longer going to drive a school bus. He would not need to divide his focus between driving and church.

On the day of his test, he drove alone to Little Rock. Due to childcare issues on that particular day, I could not go with him. I received his call in the afternoon, and he proceeded to tell me that they found the calcium in his heart was much higher than it should be for someone his age. The next step was determined to be a heart cath in September.

“No what-ifs,” I would say. “We’ll see what the doctors say. We’ll go from there.”

The day in September came and we drove to the hospital. And he went into the test and we waited for the call from the doctor.

Maybe an hour later, we sat with the doctor in the consultation room. He handed me the pictures of Honey’s heart and indicated where he had multiple significant blockages. He could have stinted them, but. But that presents a whole host of additional issues. The best thing to do in this case is a triple bypass surgery.

In that moment, that breaking moment I had but moments to decide what to do. I could collapse in panic. I could be hysterical. Or, I could do what I have learned to do, practiced doing and look to God. My Savior. The holder of my heart, and literally Honey’s heart. In that moment, we, me and my family, prayed with the surgeon. And then I went and saw my love.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He repeated over and over again. I had lost one spouse. He didn’t want to put me through the loss of another.

It was on the drive home, that I sat with the reality of the situation. Apologizing to everyone in the truck, I turned on “Yes I Will” on repeat. And I cried. And I sang.

“I count on one thing
The same God who never fails
Will not fail me now
You won’t fail me now

In the waiting
The same God who’s never late
Is working all things out
“You’re working all things out”

In that moment, I was breaking. I knew that within minutes, I would arrive at home to four boys, one being only four months old, and would have to keep life as normal as possible. Baths. Jams (pajamas, of course). Songs. Prayer time. Bedtime. But, I was breaking.

In those moments, what do you do? I had dealt with the loss of a spouse already. I just couldn’t imagine losing another. My mind wanted to go there. Wanted to “what-if” the situation. Wanted to examine all sides. Wanted to “hole up.” Instead, I decided to take some time to acknowledge the One who gave me Honey. Who gave me absolutely everything I ever wanted. I chose the breaking through. Learning over and over and again to surrender who I love best to the One who loves them most.

A few weeks later Honey had surgery, which went well, and then recovery, which did not go well (initially). But today, nearly 18 months later, Honey is here. Doing well. Still learning the changes that occur after such a surgery.

I am still breaking through.

Breaking through to being who God wants me to be. Breaking through life. Learning to navigate loving and losing and loving again and still. Breaking through to the other side.