He’s Got This

It was raining as I followed the ambulance out of the hospital parking lot. My husband, Roger, who had been diagnosed with metastatic melanoma, was being taken from West Virginia to Pittsburgh. We had invested all our hopes that the new experimental drug he was taking would assure his survival. But, after just two weeks, the treatment had caused a life-threatening reaction.

The hours on the road seemed endless. I wanted to tell the ambulance driver to go faster. I could only imagine what Roger must be feeling, strapped to a gurney, helpless but still aware of what was happening.

“What will you do?” I had asked the Pittsburgh doctors that morning before we left.

“We won’t know until he gets here,” was their only response.

Mile after mile, we navigated north. I was worried, not only about Roger, but also about what would happen when we reached the tunnel heading into Pittsburgh. Flashing lights always gave me a migraine. I couldn’t close my eyes because I had to keep my eyes fixed on the road.

But before we reached the tunnel, the clouds parted, sending bright fingers of sunlight through the rain. I watched the sky pour its glory over my anguished thoughts, and knew God’s love was being shown to me. I relaxed, knowing this mesmerizing scene was God’s way of telling me, “I’ve got this.”