Michelle and I have a 37 year old running joke. It goes something like this:

Me: Hun, I’d like to _______.

Michelle: We’ll see.

Me: You mean ‘no.’

Michelle: I didn’t say that.

Me: No, you said, ‘We’ll see’ which means 99.9% ‘no.’

Michelle smiling: ‘We’ll see.’

Michelle meant what she said. True, the averages of permission being granted in ‘we’ll see’ scenarios indeed proved to be far less than 1-in-100. There have been surprising exceptions along the way. I’ve learned to take great joy in those rare occasions. To be clear, Michelle knows how to say, ‘no.’ For instance, I asked her permission to purchase a motorcycle. She patiently listened to my well-reasoned request, paused as if in deep thought (my hopes soared at this point), and then said firmly, ‘No.’

Sigh.

Friday, Michelle sat just a few feet from me ensconced in a specialized chair that she no longer could get out of without extraordinary pain and effort. She was sleeping, her head listing to one side in a manner only infants and the very ill can tolerate. Each day this week served up a decline in her ability. To sit up for more than 10 minutes, to think clearly and sequentially, or to stay awake for more than 20 minutes at a time seemed to be out of reach.

Several decades ago I sat at the beside of a woman named Laura. She was aged, her body so wasted away that I could see the pulsations of her still-strong heart through her nightgown. I recall wondering how it was physically possible to be so emaciated that a heartbeat could be clearly visible.

Laura’s family took care of her with all the tender attentions anyone could hope to receive. In spite of their best efforts, Laura lost the ability to consistently recognize those she passionately loved as her life ebbed away. She even once accused her granddaughter of ‘stealing’ her clothes (the granddaughter was actually bringing freshly laundered clothes to her closet). In Laura one thing remained constant, her love for Jesus and comfort she received through the reading of God’s Word. After I read to her one afternoon she whispered in reply, ‘Oh how I love Jesus.’ I made a commitment that day to do all I could to be the kind of man who, when all else is stripped away, love for Jesus still remains.

Today, I took Michelle’s hand and we spoke to God together. I prayed first, then she did what she has done for decades: she ushered me in to the holy of holies. In pain physically, emotionally, and spiritually she talked to God about wanting to bring honor to His name even in these days. It was like God and Michelle were sitting next to each other on a park bench and she was just letting Him know how happy she was to be friends.

Michelle’s condition worsened this weekend to the point where we had to transport her from our home to the hospice care center. Now I’m next to Michelle’s bed wondering if I ‘am there yet’? When the pressure bears down will the sweetness of Jesus be all there is left? Lord Jesus please let it be!

It appears that the request for the lesser miracle is going to be a ‘no.’ It is a harsh reality.

I’ve not given up asking or believing a lesser miracle is possible. The thing is, though, and I am certain of this: ‘We’ll see,’ is not a 99.9% ‘no’, but a 100% yes. The greater miracle is not an empty promise to those in Christ Jesus or some quasi-comforting thing people say to each other when a loved one dies.

“See how very much our Father loves us, for he calls us his children, and that is what we are! But the people who belong to this world don’t recognize that we are God’s children because they don’t know him. Dear friends, we are already God’s children, but he has not yet shown us what we will be like when Christ appears. But we do know that we will be like him, for we will see him as he really is.” (1 John 3:1–2, NLT)

Thank you all for the ways are supporting us. Our gratitude is artesian and genuine and we both remain in a ‘one armed surrender.’

[BTW Michelle’s right arm did improve this week. The pain is almost gone and some of the function returned. What a privilege to see even this seemingly small gift. Thanks be to God!]