Thursday PM

Tiny rooms and narrow hallways, a gentle-eyed African-American nurse cared for her. Amazing kindness and gentleness, like they don't do this stuff everyday. Really. Amazing. Thanks again you friends on the nineth floor of Forsyth Memorial. We've heard you read her blog. Blessings back at you.

Rhonda was given platelets and fluids today. Me and Mary kept her company. I told her I had been studying the Reformation and asked her if she had any pressing questions for Martin Luther or John Calvin. We dreamed about Francis Schaeffer, CS Lewis, Tozer, Chesterton, Ruth Graham, Mother Theresa and Jack Miller and the rest of our friends within the great cloud of witnesses. We talked about the consistency and substance of God's glory and what does "manifold witness" mean? We read and sang "Great is thy Faithfulness" and reminded each other of what is true. We confessed the lies that we had been believing and felt the grace of God "turn the keys." We figured out that dying by His faithfulness is just as important as living by His faithfulness and that she didn't need to figure out how to do it well. Relief. We left the hospital about 5:30, drove home and put her to bed. A good, hard, sad, teary, lovely day.

Summer and winter and springtime and harvest, sun moon and stars in their courses above, join with all nature in manifold witness, to thy great faithfulness, mercy and love. Great is thy faithfulness.

Phyl