Helpless.
That is the word that comes to mind when I think of the days I spent next to my
mother’s bedside at the Mayo Clinic this time two years ago.
I
remember sitting there with my mom holding her hand, watching the monitors, and
listening to the hum of the machines and oxygen because her own lungs could no
longer keep her alive. I recounted the day only weeks before when we were told
that she would need a double lung transplant to live. It was her only hope. Then as her health rapidly deteriorated she
was put in the hospital and we waited.
There
was nothing to do but wait.
We
waited for the perfect set of lungs to come available because not just any
would do. They had to be perfect: perfectly healthy, her perfect blood type,
the perfect size for her frail body, and within just a few hours of the
hospital because time was of the essence.
The
roller coaster of emotions of those waiting for a transplant and their families
is enough to send anyone into a tailspin. Do you grieve because these are your
last days with your loved one? Do you remain hopeful each time the doctor walks
in that they will bring good news that a donor has been found? And how do you
even bear the thought of the donor and their family? I wondered a lot about who
they might be, if they themselves were a mother or a daughter, and how horrible
the loss would be for that family. What a gift they would be giving to our
family, a gift of life that could never be repaid.
As
much as we as her family loved her, there was nothing we could do.
As
amazing as the doctors, nurses, and hospital were, there was nothing they could
do.
As
much as my mom desperately wanted to live, there was nothing she could do.
We
were helpless. We needed a transplant. We were totally dependent on a lung
donor coming available.
She
needed healthy lungs for her diseased ones, she needed the perfect match. And, as
horrible and inexplicable as it was, she needed someone to lose their life so
that she could gain hers.
In the middle of that horrible reality, I was reminded that this is how the gospel
described me, how helpless and desperate I am without Jesus. The beauty of the
gospel stood steady in the midst of it all as I recalled this verse, “For while
we were still helpless at the right time, Christ died for the ungodly.”
She
was helpless. We in our sins are helpless and cannot save ourselves.
She
only had sick, diseased lungs. We have sick, sinful hearts.
She
needed new, perfect lungs to save her. We need a new heart and perfect
righteousness from Jesus to make us right with God.
She
needed a perfect match. We need Jesus who became like us so he could die in our
place.
She
needed someone close by. We need Jesus who left the glories of heaven to not
only come near to us but to bring us near to our God.
Someone
would have to die so that she could live. Someone has to die to pay for our
sins and Jesus has done that, taking our place and giving us his righteousness
so that we could live eternally.
As
wonderful and exciting and joyful as it would have been if my mother had been
given new lungs in this life, it fails to compare to the glorious realities of
the gospel.
With
the gospel there is no waiting in a hospital room fighting for your life,
helpless and just praying that you might live.
No. We have a ready Savior- Jesus has paid it all and is ever ready to save those who call out to Him in faith.
With the gospel, there is no anonymous donor whose accidental death brings life.
No. We have a willing, loving, sacrificial Savior. Jesus went to the cross willingly and, with love in his heart and a mission in his mind, saved us to the uttermost.
With the gospel, there is no 5-year life expectancy that comes with
a lung transplant.
No, no, no. We are given ETERNAL life in our Savior who loves us more than we will ever know.
That
call never came for my mom, and two years ago today she stepped into eternity.
This day would overwhelm me were it not for the transplant that happened almost
a year and a half before her diagnosis.
One
day she called me and said, “I want you to know that if I ever die that I am in
heaven.” After many talks over the years with her, I had been unsure of where
her faith lay. With a deep breath, I began to prayerfully walk through the
gospel with her again- how we are all sinners who need Jesus to die for our
sins in our place so that we can be forgiven and live eternally in heaven. In
the end, there were no disputes or assertions of how she was a good person as
before, she simply said I believe that. And a transplant happened that day that
nothing on earth could ever undo, no disease or death could ever touch.
My
mom was a quiet person and, though I saw her begin to openly talk about the Lord
I am not sure that she ever shared this with many people. So today I tell you
her story as a way of honoring her and remembering her. I am certain she would
proclaim it from the rooftops herself were it possible.
If
you do not know the Lord, I pray that He would open your eyes to how helpless
you are in your sin. But also I pray that he would show you Himself. That He is
the perfect, loving Savior who came and laid down his life to save you in your
helplessness because you cannot save yourself. Won’t you trust him today and
ask him to do that?
Beautiful, my friend.
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