Chapter 21

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” John 16:33

Deidre

There are profoundly defining moments in life that create vivid, unchangeable memories. Their edges are never frayed by time and remain crystal clear recollections till the end of our days. 

Our arrival in Cape-Town was filled with nervous excitement and hopeful anticipation. We felt like avid explorers, braving a bold new world. The splendor of the landscape and the vibrant bustle of the city, captivated us from the start. With so much to see and experience, we couldn't wait to take it all in. 

We found temporary accommodation, while familiarizing ourselves with the different environments and planning the way forward. Most days, saw Raylan and I, home alone. David would head out early each morning, scouting the gyms and looking for an opportunity to put his talents to work. 

The days were long and lonely. Raylan was increasingly cranky and clingy. We assumed that the sudden change of environment, along with some troublesome teething, was the source of her discontent and would soon pass. Until then, I resolved to cuddle and kiss my way through the grind, keeping focused on why we had set out on this journey to begin with.  

The work environment was vastly different from what David had been used to, but he was more than ready for the challenge. Four weeks after our arrival, following a successful interview, he was offered a spot at a gym in the city centre. We found a quaint little apartment nearby, with easy access to everything we needed. Some sparsely added, second hand furniture, suited our immediate needs. And just like that, we were settled into our cozy little home. 

Excited as we were that things were finally taking shape, storm clouds were lurking on the horizon. Day by day the struggle with Raylan continued. She seemed less and less interested in her activities, displayed strange symptoms, slept longer and cried more than she ever had as a small baby. Nothing we tried seemed to make much of a difference. A gradual heaviness, that we dared not acknowledge out loud, was descending on our hearts. 

An evening trip to the ER, saw us sent home with flu medication and told that she would improve in a few days. Two days later, at three O’clock in the morning, as I sat on the edge of my bed, cradling Raylan to my chest, I finally let the words slip into the darkness of the room. 

“Something is very wrong here…”

I knew David wasn’t sleeping. The deep sigh he offered in response, fell into the silence and hung in the air between us. The moment felt fragile, like trying to hold a soap bubble in your hands. Desperate to preserve the beautiful reflection of moments past, but sensing the inevitability of what was about to come.  

The following morning, a family practitioner in the area agreed to see Raylan immediately. He assessed her and sent us to a specialist Paediatrician. 

Sitting in her office, my hands shook as I held the crumpled little note I had scribbled in the waiting room. I wanted to list all the symptoms and concerns, lest I forget to mention something important. Struggling to read through the thick blur that was spilling onto the words, the doctor’s compassionate hands gently covered my own as she spoke a calm reassurance over the moment and into my heart. 

What followed, felt somewhat like a dream. A distorted reality that could never have formed part of our wildest imaginings. Emergency hospital admission, holding our baby down for an IV line, sedation, immediate scan…. 

David and I stayed by her side throughout the thirty minute scan. The monotonous clicking sound of the MRI, almost comforting in the cold, starkly lit room. Behind the observation window, the stone faced radiography team, gave nothing away as they examined the screens before them.  

“Oh God of endless grace, hear our prayer…”

Hours later, as Raylan still slept soundly on her bed in the paediatric ward, a gentle knock came at the door. 

“Oh God of endless grace, have mercy on us…”

The doctor closed the door behind her and sat down on the bed. I have always been a lover of words. They breathed creative life into existence, evoke powerful imagery and colour our imaginations with fanciful  delight. Yet, they cut deeper than any sword ever could and cast seemingly immovable shadows of grief over already bleeding hearts. 

“Oh God of endless grace, hold us close…”

“I’m so sorry,” she said. More words followed…Brain tumor…cancer…surgery….uncertain…death….

“God of endless grace, I fall to my knees….” 

I had stopped listening at some point, clutching the sides of my chair, as though it were the only thing keeping me from drifting away.  A sound like rushing water flooded my ears and overwhelming torrents of this incomprehensible new reality washed over me. 

“God of endless grace, I shatter…”

From the corner of the room, deep, guttural wails finally pierced through the waves of disbelief, and thrust me violently up to the surface of full awareness. My husband, so strong and confident, stood bent over at the window.

“God of endless grace…”

His large shoulders shook as he gasped for breath through the sobs. With an almost child-like vulnerability, he reached for me and we sank to our knees on the hospital room floor. We clung to each other tightly, anchored to the moment that would leave us irrevocably changed. And then, as gentle as the sweetest kiss, he breathed out the only Word that really mattered.

“Jesus” 

He repeated it over and over, growing in boldness, until the despair receded and peace, beyond understanding, wove a warm blanket of grace around us. We were not alone and we were not without hope. 

“Take heart” says He “For I have overcome the world.” Every whispered prayer that had gone out before us, was fully surrendered to this unshakable truth. 

As we knelt there in the stillness, shattered pieces of the life we had imagined scattered around us, we knew that the battle ahead was not ours. Even in the throws of indescribable anguish, we were fully cradled in the Father’s embrace. One breath, one step, one minute at a time. 

“God of endless grace, we surrender.”