It’s Gonna Be Okay!

“It’s gonna be okay!” Those were some of the last words my husband told me right before he was intubated, knowing that they could very well be his last. We would wait for the next two weeks to see if they would or wouldn’t be.

It was an emotional moment for all of us. My husband was exhausted; his lungs were severely damaged, and his body was weak and tired from fighting for each breath. He was done; he reached the point where he couldn’t continue. The oxygen masks and support were at their limit, and they, too, had nothing left to give to keep him breathing.

Just minutes before, alone in the hospital, where he had already been for fifteen days, he called my phone. I must have been on the phone with the doctor, who had called earlier to alert me because Joey’s call went to voicemail.

I immediately called him back. Even if he could have gotten them out, he had no words. Instead, he cried as he listened to me pray for him, as thoughts ran through his mind that this could very well be the last time he would talk with me, this side of Heaven.

The doctor would again call me back, letting me know that my husband’s oxygen continued to drop, hitting fifty percent, and it was now an emergency. He spoke to me over speakerphone, informing me that my husband had expressed earlier his desire to be intubated. My husband, in the background, yelled as best he could, “It’s gonna be okay!”

I wasn’t quite sure what he was thinking. In my heart, I took his words quite differently than what he intended. I thought maybe he knew something that I didn’t. He was the only one who knew how bad he felt; perhaps he felt better than how things looked. Given the situation, I couldn’t ask him to elaborate. But maybe, just maybe, he felt that things would be okay. Or perhaps I was making things up in my head, trying to convince myself because I knew my heart was not ready otherwise. My heart wasn’t ready to let go.

Time would only tell how things would go. No one could offer me a guarantee. Looking back, I believe there was more to my husband’s words that day.

Perhaps it was a message God was wanting me to hear. Maybe it’s a message for you, too. Maybe it is a message our hearts need to hear.

As Joey stared death in the face, he knew that his life lay in the hands of a trusting God. He knew there was nothing he could do to alter his situation. He had no control other than to decide if he would surrender it to God and trust His will. And he did.

Later, Joey would explain to me what he was thinking when he uttered those words. He said, “I knew that either way, it would be okay. If I lived, I would see you again. If I died, I would see you again. Either way, it would be okay.”

In my own battle of surrender, I eventually realized that I had to let my faith be louder than my fear. So I laid Joey at the foot of the cross, trusting God’s will that whatever the outcome, it would be okay. I would do it again, as my father faced death, and as a family, respecting his final wishes, we had to let him go. I laid my father into Jesus’ hands, surrendering my will for His, trusting that someday, it would be okay.

In the middle of all our struggles, when we have no fight left within us, when we’re weak and worn, fighting to catch our breath, when nothing can sustain us, God’s love reaches out and gently whispers, “It’s gonna be okay. I’m here with you; I won’t leave you. Let Me carry you.”

He doesn’t say it’s going to be easy. He doesn’t say it will be quick or painless. But He does promise to be with us. And someday, whether through the miracle or through the peace that passes all understanding, it will be okay.

To read more in-depth details from this night, you can click here. You can also read more of our story here.