I spent all of Thursday at UAB, Kirklin Clinic. I met my brain surgeon, the woman who is going to drill holes in my head and place electric probes inside my brain. I had a CT with contrast (which I do not recommend) and an MRI with contrast (which I have had enough times that I don't even really mind it).
Yet, I walked away truly filled with joy, truly rejoicing.
YET is the key word.
I don't know if you can clearly see the picture that is the background for that scripture. It is a quilted background, with a picture of a woman holding a child sewn into it, using the abstract and crazy to create a picture that is touching.
After meeting the brain surgeon we had an hour to waste before the CT scan, so we walked the hospital. This picture was hanging on a wall as you entered the children's wing.
It was a beautiful reminder that it could be worse. It could be my child who was sick.
We found a chapel and went in to join several others already there in prayer. A woman with her head covered, perhaps a more conservative branch of Christian, or Muslim or Hindu or Jewish, I didn't ask. A man with his prayer rug, almost for sure a Muslim. I prayed for them, that while they are hurting and seeking peace that my Savior would reach out to them and pour His love over them.
It was a beautiful reminder that it could be worse. I might not so closely know my Savior and have my Jesus at the center, pouring out Joy without price or requirement in the middle of stress and fear.
While I was in my MRI Andy sat in a waiting room and listened to a man cough and hack and appear to be in pain, yet he was not the one being scanned. It was the female that came with him that was called back.
It was a beautiful reminder that it could be worse. We could both be sick.
Reminder after reminder crossed through my day. People who didn't have an Andy. People who were obviously and visibly broken. People who were confused or afraid or alone.
That challenge "....And YET".
I will rejoice.
Go read Habakkuk 3. Read what comes before the "and yet".
Spend a day wandering around a hospital, with your eyes open.
Read a blog or listen to a conversation or simply be aware of the pain around you.
Then get in your car that runs, and stop for easy affordable food on your way home, where your children are waiting for you with bedtime hugs.
Choose the "and yet"...
Make the choice to rejoice.