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Just when you think it couldn’t get any worse than this weekend….

It was a holiday we had been looking forward to for ages. After the worry of sick parents and children and hectic schedules all round, we simply needed some time away to be together and do some fun stuff as a family. So we saved the dollars and booked some nice accomodation in Echuca/Moama, packed the car and were on our way.

Less than 24 hours into our stay, Katrina picked Jared up out of the cot and felt something not-quite-right happen in her back. She shuffled into the lounge where Thomas and I were playing and lay down on the floor to try and stretch her muscles a bit. Within 15 minutes she was in excrutiating pain and unable to move.

For the next two hours she simply lay on the floor, as still as she could, hoping that time would see things put themselves right. But it was obvious we were in a bit of trouble. So we spent the next hour or so trying to move her the ten or so metres to the bed.

With lots of screams we finally got there. But the bed was as far as she was going to go. She needed a doctor and quickly so I set about trying to find one that would come out and visit her.

No luck.

So once again, the ambulance service got a call from the Glover family and they arrived promptly to take Katrina to hospital. At 10:00pm I watched her get driven away while I stayed at the unit with the two sleeping boys.

At 3:30am in the morning she arrived home, very stiff and sore, but at least moving under her own strength. The drugs she was given meant that breast feeding Jared wasn’t an option for the next 24 hours or so - a quick transition to the bottle for the little guy but one he handled beautifully.

And just like that, our relaxing family holiday became nothing but hard, frustrating work. While she could move a little, there wasn’t much Katrina could do and the touristy stuff was painful every step of the way. Bad weather on a few days didn’t help either.

I knew what Katrina was experiencing wasn’t life threatening. We both suffer from this sort of thng from time to time. A good dose of muscle relaxants and anti-inflammetry drugs usually do the trick. So while I was upset, I wasn’t worried.

But I was angry. Angry at God. Angry to the point that I wanted nothing to do with him. Surely, for just this one week, God could have let us have some family time without the pressures of ministry. After all the turmoil of the last few months, surely one week wasn’t too much to ask. But it seemed God was determined to suck out any joy we might find in being together as a family.

To be honest, God and I are still a bit cool with each other. I don’t have any answers as to why and I don’t expect I will get any either. But I do know that our ’suffering’ is pretty mild on a world wide scale. I do know that I hold onto my family tightly. And though I don’t feel it, I do know that God is, somehow, faithful.

I couldn’t pray, but I asked may others to in my place. They did and from that point Katrina started to improve. The most encouraging message I received in return said, “Don’t worry. We’re keeping the faith for you.” My community helping to keep me, the pastor, faithful when things were rocky. Despite the distance, my community were there for me.

I don’t know that I will ever be able to express how grateful I am for that.