The Battle is Over
Perhaps 1 1/2 to 2 months ago I wrote of a different lady with breast cancer. This was the lady who did not have surgery due to fear. Her husband is building our fence, at our new home that is being built. Word came that she was in the hospital and not doing well. I felt very convicted that I needed to go and visit her each day. Many excuses flooded my brain. Yet I could not shake the conviction. So off I went to the hospital which is just behind the aviation property. We can drive there in 3 or 4 minutes.
I found Ibu (mother) sitting up in a chair. Oxygen at 5 L. IV flowing (every patient in the hospital appears to have an IV). Pitting edema in her feet. Every breath laborious. Her lung x-ray was laying near by. It was just filled with white matter. Unsure if it was fluid or a mass, but it was clear that Ibu was struggling to get enough air. So each day I made my little journey. As the week plunged on I found Ibu on the floor with her family holding her hands above her head, so that she could get some air. Wearily, she became weaker and weaker. It was so visible from day to day. Ibu always managed to whisper out “berdoa” , meaning to pray.
Rarely can I pray for a patient without weeping for them. Ibu was no exception. Even though she did not understand my English prayers, she understood my heart. And that Great Physician Jesus, granted peace again and again. One day I felt so impressed to sing the old hymn, “It is Well With My Soul”. So with a quivery quiet voice I sang and one of her relatives harmonized with me on the chorus. Fruit drinks mixed in the blender became my humble offering. And I knew on Friday night when I learned the that she struggled no longer, it was truly the most merciful answer to prayer.
Today we went to the funeral. The scene that still lingers in my mind is her children flinging themselves on her open coffin and wailing. 4 of the children are grown, but two are still under the age of eight. The battle is over for Ibu. She will be missed dearly.