How do I respond to unexpected news?

The letter came in the mail over a year ago. It only arrived in the mailboxes of women who turned 50 years old. Getting old is often bemoaned. The number of antiaging products and exercises advertised across different mediums alludes to the fact that aging is something we’d all like to postpone, minimize or avoid. I guess I’m not like most people. Aging has always been something that I’ve been curious about.

How will I age?

How will I look?

How able will I be to do activities?

How long will I live?

How much capacity will I have to serve?

Opening the red vintage mailbox attached to my house is most often a joy for me. Since we receive little mail day to day, I did not miss the letter that was slipped in the box on that warm summer afternoon.   I tucked it away in the upper white cupboard beside the fridge for a few months believing I was healthy and well, and without any history in my family the exam was not necessary for me yet.

The request in the letter to make an appointment was forgotten.

I don’t know what changed my mind, but as the winter set in I decided to retrieve the letter from the cupboard. I was going to make the call and set up an appointment.  From one answering service to another I got nowhere. I went online to see if I could book there. All the websites directed me to the phone number that I had called. 

I tried again.

And again. 

I had no success. I gave up and decided I’d try another day. That day took a while to arrive.

The leaves on the trees around me were turning orange, red and yellow and sitting on my back porch for dinner with the family in the warmth of the evening was not how I thought I’d be reminded to get the letter out again. Throat tightening, heart palpating, my body was changing. We closed the meal in prayer between my incessant coughing and we all knew it was time to get the epinephrine. 

Experiencing difficulty breathing for weeks after that allergic reaction brought me to the doctor’s office. I knew I had to talk about more with her than my struggle for breath. 

And I did. 

“Oh, that’s no problem. I’ll have the exam arranged for you right now,” she shared with her warm matter of fact tone.   Joking about when the letter came to her mailbox she added, “It’s an interesting notification to remind you that you are aging, isn’t it?” I agreed. I felt acknowledged but also reminded that this exam was just a standard practice for all women who turned 50. 

“You should receive an email informing you of the date and time in the next week or so.” Thanking her for her wisdom and encouragement I left the small sterile office content that all was well with me. I received the email, went for the standard test, and carried on with my daily life. 

Distracted by crafting an informative email to a church leader I did not clue in quickly enough why the words across my phone screen were the name of the hospital.  As I processed why the hospital would be calling, I answered.

“Good morning?”

To this day I don’t know all the words that were spoken to me by the woman on the other line. I was told I’d have to come in for more investigative scans and then was asked a litany of questions that I hope I answered correctly. 

“We’ll see you Monday morning at 10:45am.”

It wasn’t a question. I was told. I had no option but to be at the hospital at that time.

Holding back tears of confusion and fear, I mumbled, “Okay, thank you.”

I did manage to press the red button on the bottom of my phone screen before bursting into tears. I sat down on the stool behind my standing desk depleted.  “Lord, hold me close. Your ways are not my ways. I am forever yours. What just happened, Father? You knew this call was coming. Thank you that I trust you…. But HELP!” Without any more words to God, I called my husband, the man I knew who would have good words to say back to me.  He did, but I think I also stunned him a little. That is rare so it was a feeling of experiencing the unknown very clearly as one. 

“Shall we tell the children? 

Do they need to know?  

Would it be better to wait until we know more?

It would be good to have them pray with us. 

Some of them will worry.

They don’t need more on their minds. 

Some are already carrying heavy matters on their hearts.”  

We decided he would tell the children and then he prayed. 

Waiting draws us close to our Creator.  Confidence, courage and peace soon filled my heart as I left my house for a meeting, so I put the car windows down, opened the sunroof, and turned the praise and worship songs up loud. The streets were busy with vehicles and pedestrians, but not a soul was aware of what was going on inside of my body. No one. Only God. So I sang at the top of my lungs in worship to him. 

The same hospital name popped up on my screen one more time 2 days later as my phone rang.  I was crafting dinner this time. Slowly putting my spatula down and lowering the temperature of the oven gave me time to prepare to answer this call. Again, I didn’t know it was coming but I had some questions ready this time. 

The woman on this call was warmer in tone and slower in her conversation. I felt less numerical this time.  “There will be an ultrasound immediately following the test and a radiologist will be present through all the procedures. A doctor will also be available to answer any questions before you leave. Please hydrate well before you come.” 

I didn’t but I wanted to ask, “Should I be concerned? Is this something serious?” I knew the answer. She didn’t know. I knew it could be a minor inconvenience or a major adjustment to my life. I had no idea, but I knew that God knew and that gave me hope and joy. 

I didn’t cry after this call. 

I sang. 

I’m still singing.

Sometimes I sing sad, sometimes I sing confused, sometimes I sing happy.

But I sing, because if I remain in worship, there is no room for worry. 

How do you respond to unexpected news?

Do you have someone to connect and pray with at all times?

Have you established a routine for times of waiting?

What song or prayer or Bible verse comes to your heart on a tough day?

Is your relationship with God as strong as you’d like?