Everything was ready. The suitcases, the extra pillows, the hotel reservations, my traveling pharmacy of carefully stocked children’s Motrin and Tylenol, the snacks, the grandma traveling in to keep our younger son, the plan to check into the hospital at 5:15 a.m. Everything was ready for our return, too—the shower chair, the bed rail, the mountain of pillows and blankets. My teenager has been mentally preparing for his spinal fusion surgery for six months. The pain, the months of recovery, restrictions, and a month out of school—we were as prepared as anyone could be.
That morning, before we realized our son had a cold, I’d combed the Scriptures for a verse to meditate on while at the hospital. I knew the chances of sleeping in a chair in my son’s hospital room the nights after surgery were slim, so I wanted a truth to ponder and steady my mind when I needed to rest and be still. The Lord led me to Psalm 18:30, and it ministered to me for all the “what ifs” that were waking me up with panic attacks during the nights preceding surgery.
“This God—His way is perfect;
the word of the Lord proves true;
He is a shield for all who take refuge in Him.”
“This,” I thought, “is the verse I need.” I would memorize it, meditate on it. It would carry me. Whatever the outcome of this very invasive surgery with all its risks and worries, God’s way would be perfect and we would see His faithfulness in it.
Fast forward about seven hours and that verse took on a whole new meaning when I picked up my son from school and heard his sniffles and complaints of a sore throat. The next day, when we learned that surgery was indeed canceled (you cannot take risks with colds and anesthesia), I felt a little weird about the verse. “The irony,” I told my husband, “is that it feels like this verse is mocking me.” We laughed while a few tears dripped down my face. This surgery has been such an ordeal to prepare for both practically and mentally. It’s a long, scary, and invasive surgery. It’s hours away from home. We have two children. Our family lives out of state. The recovery is long and hard. The anticipatory stress has been brutal for all of us, and there’s no way to resolve it. The verse I thought would uphold me at the hospital was going to have to uphold me in our canceled plans.
This God—His way is perfect.
The verse wasn’t mocking me. It is reminding me that what was true about God yesterday is true about God today. His way is perfect and He is a refuge for all who run to Him. Sometimes the truth stings a little when we swallow it, but once we let it fill us, it comforts like nothing else.
I’m not going to lie. I’ve shed a lot of tears over this. I am nothing if not a careful planner. We planned the surgery around my work travel, my childcare options, my son’s school load, the holidays. I remember the day we left the children’s hospital last July with a surgical plan in place. I told my son, “We’re going to look for the ways God has loved us in this. Just you watch. He’ll prove Himself faithful.”
And He has, a hundredfold. Here are a few examples.
- All of our surgery recovery items from our Amazon wish-list were purchased for us by friends and strangers. This was hundreds of dollars’ worth of items. From heating pad to bed rail and everything in between, our practical needs were met.
- A couple of church members handed us envelopes of cash for whatever we might need. We had enough to cover hotels, travel, food, and much more.
- Our pastors and church members gathered around my son, anointing him with oil and laying hands over him in prayer, per James 5:14.
- My (newish) next-door neighbor, who I knew was a registered nurse, told me that she spent 15 years on the neuro floor caring for spinal surgery patients. I can text her day or night during recovery and she will know what to do.
- A gracious acquaintance organized a prayer vigil for my son, turning it into a prayer vigil for all of us when we realized surgery would be postponed.
All of our needs have been met.
And so, as I have been reminded over and over in the last two days since everything unraveled, God will continue to prove true. His way is still perfect, even if it diverges spectacularly from my way.
In my family text thread, I updated everyone on our changed plans, and my dad replied with this nugget of wisdom: “Psalm 37:24—’We can make our plans, but God plans our steps.’ He also plans our stops as well. This is one of God’s stops for now.”
That pierced my heart when I read it. If God plans our steps, it means He plans our stops as well. And if you sit with it for a minute, there’s comfort in that. I told the Lord, “I’d love to know what You’re shielding us from” but we may never know the reason for our changed plans. Yet, we can trust that God’s way is perfect and that He orders our steps and our stops. And because He is a shield and a refuge, we can absolutely trust Him with our lives, our children’s lives, our friends’ lives. We can trust Him with our calendars, our bank accounts, our insurance claims.
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I’m starting a new list. Or maybe continuing the original one. “How is God caring for us in this—in these changed plans?”
Here’s what I’ve got so far.
- When we called the hotel in St. Louis about canceling our five-night stay, they graciously waived the cancellation fee. We’ll rebook with them when surgery is rescheduled.
- There are a whole lot of health issues going on in our extended family including multiple surgeries and cancer, so we’re not able to ask them to travel to Missouri and keep our younger son. When I texted a friend from church and asked her to consider keeping my younger son when we do get a new surgery date, she said, “I don’t even have to think about it. Yes.”
- All of the gifts and money given to us for the original surgery date will be perfectly useful for when we actually get to use them. Nothing is wasted.
- Prayer. So many have been praying for my son. I can’t even wrap my mind around it.
- The Lord is good and He does good. He hasn’t changed.
Maybe you’re wondering why I’m sharing all of these personal details with a bunch of people who don’t know me outside of my books or online writing. I’ve always been extremely transparent about our life in my writing because I think it helps readers to see where God may be at work in their own set of difficult circumstances. I certainly keep the most private details private. But, my life is nothing if not a vessel that the Lord may choose to use. I’m happy to be poured out if it means you lift your chin a little and look at how His goodness shines in your difficult circumstances.
This afternoon, my son told me it was weird not to be having the surgery on the day it was scheduled. “But,” he said, “God is sovereign. And He did not plan for us to have surgery today. And He’s with us. So, it’s okay, Mom.” God plans our steps. God plans our stops. Maybe my son knows it better than I do: This God—His way is perfect.
Glenna Marshall is married to her pastor, William, and lives in rural Southeast Missouri where she tries and fails to keep up with her two energetic sons. She is the author of The Promise is His Presence (P&R) and Everyday Faithfulness (Crossway), and Memorizing Scripture (Moody). Connect with her on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter.
Lizzy R says
OH. You ALWAYS minister to me SO much. This is beautiful. And the gift of your son’s words, that confidence in the Lord’s sovereignty, treasure.
Amanda says
God knew what He was doing. You are still in my prayers. God calls us to pray for those that in need, know matter when, where or why, lots of love and hugs to you all xxxx You are teaching me so much.
Barbara Harper says
I can so identify with this. I am a planner as well. One of my biggest comforts with medical procedures is anticipating when it will all be *over*–and then to have that delayed would be excruciating. Not to mention having to replan and prepare. I love that thought that God plans out stops as well as our steps and that nothing is wasted.