7/30/2019 Lord, You Never Let Go of Me
3/3
Virginia adVocate | deceMBer 2012 Virginia adVocate | deceMBer
201220
By Cathryn Wooton
It was ironic that on the weekendthe U.S. declared war on Iraq
(March2003), I was finding peace at Black-
stone on the 69th Walk to Emmaus.I arrived for this three-day
retreat
with friends proclamations of It willchange your life! ringing
in my ears.Frankly, I was pretty happy with my lifeas it was an
idyllic childhood, hap -pily married with two lovely children(one
girl, one boy), healthy and activeparents, a rewarding career, a
church Iloved in which I was very active whatcould make it any
better?
I spent the first day listening to mytablemates stories and
struggles, think-ing happily, Im the luckiest one in theroom. The
thoughtful presentations
held no real revelation for me I wasalready well-versed and
well-loved. Thetable projects were fun, and the snackskept coming.
I slept well that night.
But as I slept, God was at work,retooling His plan for day two.
Sametable, same women, same historiesbut like a clever producer who
wantsto warn the viewer of upcoming drama,God slowly morphed the
backgroundmusic from Everythings Coming upRoses to something more
like musicfrom the end of Titanic. It becameincreasingly clear to
me that everywomans life experience included atleast one thing that
I deeply dreadedcancer, aging parents, divorce, rebel-
lious teens, the loss of a child, depres-sion, addiction and
more. The music inmy head got louder, and the stories feltdarker.
My happy-go-lucky demeanordissolved into despair. I could not
speakwhen my turn came around becausetears were streaming down my
facefor the rest of the day. I was, all of thesudden, terrified of
an inevitable future.I was shakenmaybe for the first timein my
entire charmed life.
That evening, we had the opportu-nity to meet with one of
several pastorson the retreat. After I tearfully blurtedout my
irrational fear of not being pre-pared for the rest of my life, the
pastorspoke in a gentle paragraph of which I
only heard one sentence: Always re-member fear and faith cannot
occupythe same space in your heart.
I had no doubt heard that concepta dozen or more times through
Biblestudies or church scripture readings Ihave since heard it a
hundred times.But at that moment, God mainlined itinto my heart and
added a chaser oftotal peace.
Day three dawned to a differentsoundtrack more like a crescendo
ofLook what the Lord has done! Again,it was the same women with the
samestories but what did I notice in my re -stored sunlight? JOY! I
saw joy that wasa result of their faithful journeys andemergence
from their valleys of dark-
ness. They were intact, and they lived totell the stories of
Gods love for the m! Ileft the retreat with an assurance thatmy
present life had not changed, butmy future had. I tucked that
knowledgeaway, still hoping no t to have to unpackit for a
while.
That lasted about six months. Twonights before Halloween, my
7-year-oldson padded into our room and whis-pered, Mommy, I think
Im a little sic k.Can I sleep with you? As I tucked himin between
us, I felt a whisper fromthe Holy Spirit, which I only
recognized
an hour later when we woke up to theterrifying sound of our son
having a sei-zure. I was strangely prepared or atleast not
surprised. That one was overquickly, but when the same thing
hap-pened the next night, it lasted too long,and we called an
ambulance. His fatherrode with him while I followed behindin my
car. The CD was cued up and blar-ing Steve Bells song, Isaiah 40
and Imade that my prayer as I kept only one
car length between the bumper of the ambulance and thenose of my
van.
In the emergency room, Jansen was groggily emergingfrom the
seizure; I held his warm little hand and noticed thathis blue eyes
were even bluer with the tiny pupils. I leanedclose to hear him
whisper, Mom, I dont want this to be hap -pening to me. He pulled
me back again and finished, ButIm not afraid.
Time to unpack, I realized I am not afraid either,Jansen.
When we heard the resident talking on the phone toour doctor
saying, I have one of your patients here with asmall brain tumor, I
was not afraid. When they transferredhim immediately to MCV, and I
got lost trying to follow theambulance into the parking garage, I
was not afraid. Whenthe surgeon visited us in ICU and said he
thought it was oper-able, but he wanted to see how it would react
to medicine, Iwas not afraid. When a bevy of friends and family
membersvisited and milled around his room with tears in their
eyessaying, How are you doing with this? I was not afraid.
There was ONE thing Jansen was afraid of, however, andthat was
missing Halloween! To a 7-year-old boy with themost awesome Anakin
Skywalker costume, missing Hallow-een was unacceptable. The steroid
shots had made him rest -
less and inconsolable. Mom, can we call the president andask him
to postpone it? Mom, can you bust me outta here?Mom, how many more
hours until its dark?
The news was bad in that they could not get him in forthe MRI
until the next day, and Jansen w as going to have tosettle for the
Halloween party down the hall put on by VCUstudents. He cried and
cried, nearly hysterical at the thoughtof missing the neighborhood
parade and evening with hisbest friend. I suggested that we pray.
Good idea! he said.God is bigger than the president anyway. I
prayed for Godto calm us both down, but his prayer must have been
moredirect, because about 30 minutes later, they unexpectedlycame
in to take him for the MRI, and two hours later, wedrove into our
neighborhood just in time to catch the line-upfor the costume
parade!
God granting a little boy his Halloween wish was onlythe first
example of Hi s love for us over the next year as we
tried medicine after medicine to suppress or eliminate
theincreasingly frequent seizures. There was a soccer coachwhose
son had been operated on by the same surgeon wewould end up having.
There was the lady in the Recordsdepartment at the ho spital who
said one day, Honey, I havea feeling hes gonna be fine, and I
believed her. There wasa nurse in the aisle seat when we sent both
kids by them -selves on a plane all the way to New Mexico to visit
theirgrandparents. There were new friends who came out of
thewoodwork with meals, successful stories, reassurance andgifts.
Even Jansens teacher had a husband with epilepsy, so
she was not unnerved by his daily seizures in class.People would
say to me, I dont know how you a
dling this so well. My response was, WE are NOT. GOlikened it to
God swooping underneath us with a redcarpet that kept us hovering a
few inches above theness of real life. God was my constant
companion. Wprayed over Jansen every morning before I put him
oschool bus, God was the one handing him his backpsaying, Mom, I
got this. I had actually never been safraid as I was the year my
son had a brain tumor.
Our story has a happy ending, as I knew it wouldno medicine did
the trick after a year, the doctors dego ahead and do a resection
and remove the jellybecyst, which actually left a gobstopper-sized
hole in hfrontal lobe. Although they were certain that he
wouexperience any deficiencies in cognitive, speech or mskills
after the surgery, they predicted that he mighttrouble with
organization and behavior. We joked, W8-year-old boy, how would we
KNOW?
Hes 16 now, and I still smile when I go i nto his ronight and
see his clothes for the next day laid out nethe floor as if they
are waiting for him to step into thwhen he pulls out his busy
calendar to give me his mband and work schedules. Or when his sense
of hum
firms our suspicion that the surgeon inserted a giggbefore he
closed up.
Other things on that original ominous list have haon my journey
through life divorce, depression andof my father-in-law. But I
carry Gods promise from Pin my suitcase:
Even though I walk through the valthe shadow of death,
Your perfect love is casting out fearAnd even when Im caught in
the m
of the storms of this life,I wont turn back, I know you are
n
And I will fear no evil,For my God is with me
And if my God is with me,Whom then shall I fear?Oh no, You never
let go,Through the calm and through the Lord, You never let go of
me.
Lyrics: You Never Let Go by M
-Cathryn Wooton is Graphic Designer for the Advocateand a me
praise band at Shady Grove UMC (Short Pump) in
Lord, you never let go of me
(Top to bottom): Jansen before his brain surgery at
the age of 8; getting pre-op kisses from Grandma and
Mom; and on a cruise with Mom at the age of 16.
