Meteor Shower

I can finally see
That your right there beside me
I am not my own
For I have been made new
Please don't let me go
I desperately need you

I am not my own
For I have been made new
Please don't let me go
I desperately need you

--Owl City

Agonal Breathing

For those of you who are not medical people, this term describes the respiration at the end of life. It is labored breathing characterized by a gasping for air spaced at 3-4 breaths per minute, but is extremely difficult to differentiate from someone who is actually recovering from not breathing. It sounds horrible to see someone go through this and it is.

I had the horrible opportunity to see it at work this past Saturday. A five year old girl passed away, much to the dismay of her father and my fellow coworkers. It was nothing we could've prevented and it was nothing we did wrong. But all the same, it doesn't prevent the painful reminder of life's fragility. This was a young girl whom many of my coworkers had seen playing cheerfully with her father throughout the day. I myself had spoken to her, smiled at her, and watched her enjoy her time. What an unjust tragedy.

Initially I was just frustrated at not knowing how she was doing after she was brought out to the ambulance on a gurney surrounded by EMS and followed by her father. I still don't know how I feel about it, but at the follow-up meetings yesterday, I expressed my slight apprehension to go back to work immediately. The upper staff were more than willing to give me all the time I needed, so I was not supposed to work until Thursday.

Perhaps I was just being silly, but then I confirmed my own suspicions when I did go into work today to cover for an ill coworker. Mostly I spent my time up on the slide, informing patrons when it was ok for them to go down. But then in the last 15 min I decided I would give it a try. The pool was close to closing and there wasn't more than 1 person in the pool I was guarding at a time. As I was sitting there, I began to replay the incident of the Saturday before and began to think of the suffering which this family is going through. Began thinking of father pleading for his child to breathe. Began thinking of my own personal experience of losing a loved one. Perhaps it would be a consolation to her family that she didn't suffer for long, though I imagine the pain stings just as much. Thinking about these things stirred up an unexpected emotional reaction.

However, I also began to think about the hope we have as believers. If I did not have this hope, I am certain that I would be a very bitter person. God is good to us, even if we do not understand what his workings. This can be a painfully difficult thing to remind ourselves, I know it is for me.

"I am not my own, for I have been made new... Never let me go, I desperately need you..."

Ramble, ramble, ramble...

Do you ever feel as though there isn't a person in the world who is worse than yourself? As of late, I am constantly being reminded of my own short-comings and it sort of stinks. There just seems to be an endless number of road blocks that keep me in this place. Being a "good, Reformed" believer, I shouldn't have this problem, right? It's easy to ease my guilt by comparing myself to others. How terribly childish that sounds.

It sucks when you are, in a way, expected to be one way by fellow believers as well as those on the "outside", and only you know of what truly lies in your heart and that it doesn't match the picture they have in mind. Its really difficult admitting time and time again that you can't do it on your own. With each time we admit our sin and guilt, don't we all hope in some small way that we can fix it by ourselves?

Perhaps this "burden" is a sort of blessing. It reminds me of who I am, and humbles me to the fact that we do need to be constantly confessing our sins. It also reminds me that I am no better than any other person in the way I live my life.

So why is this so difficult for me?... this confessing thing? Pride and confusion. It's a vicious cycle really. I know what I should be doing, yet... there is something binding me up, something that calls me to question all that I grew up "knowing"... This is nothing new for me. In fact, this "questioning" phase of my life has been going on for a while, and its been difficult finding someone I can respect in opinion in order to help me through.

Well, perhaps I have thoroughly confused you with whatever I just said. I don't even know, and to be honest, I don't think it was very well thought out... However, sometimes rambling just helps to organize those thoughts later in life.

Until next time, "Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way, when you criticize them, you're a mile away and you have their shoes."