A handful of observations

My pen was busy recording the this and the that of our unexpected trip to Denver last month. Wisdom was there, change was the one constant and the other-worldiness of hospitals remains intact.

We were at Mom's installing a baby gate in one of the kitchen doorways. Our 5-year-old granddaughter, Maddy, wise beyond her years, had come to visit and asked about the gate. I explained that the main purpose of the gate was to keep Alex, her 11-month old second cousin, from crawling into the kitchen and helping himself to the dog's dish.

"But Grandma," Maddy advised me, her tone surprisingly condescending for one so young, "babies do get hungry."

Another bit of wisdom came to me from my dearest sister-friend, who advised, "Those things are on a need-to-know basis, and only God needs to know." I'd like to make that one into a bumper sticker - it sure beats the pants off one from the 90s that used to irk me no end, "God is my co-pilot." Huh?

Changes in the city were plentiful. The International House of Pancakes where I worked when Danny and I got engaged is now a Mexican restaurant. I must say the signature A-frame building lost something in the translation. Arctic Circle, with its ever so delicious secret sauce is now a country cafe and the Jack-in-the-Box where I first allowed my blond roots to show by placing a to-go order at the drive-thru has been replaced by a Dodge dealership. The Taco Hut on Littleton Blvd., however, is still there. A little the worse for wear, but still there.

One of the many changes was decidedly beneficial, especially for drivers who have been out of city traffic for years. The pedestrian walk signal at many intersections now has a countdown displayed, so walkers and drivers can see how many seconds are left before the light turns yellow.

Tears were an inevitable part of our trip to Denver. It was hard to see Mom ailing, so frail and vulnerable in a hospital bed. Then I remembered the Scripture that promises that God captures our tears in a bottle (Psalm 56:8). Perhaps tears, offered in faith and faithfully captured, can be used by God as a gentle rain, serving to soften the hardened hearts of men. If it were so, then I would pray my tears would never stop.

I've written before about the strange other-worldliness of hospitals. About how time seems to stand still and how all other cares seem to fade into the background. There is a strange camaraderie in hospitals, not with hospital staff, not even with the patients, but with fellow visitors, caretakers and family members. Such was certainly the case during our sojourn at Littleton Adventist Hospital. Elevator conversations were short but to the point. A walk down the hallway past closed patient doors brought an automatic hush and strangers exchanged whispered words of encouragement quickly and with great kindness. Hospitals, except for the maternity ward, typically are not happy places and it is impossible to know what tragedy has visited to bring others to this strange parallel world. The need for a kind word, for a gentle smile, for an understanding tear, was quickly understood and seldom went unmet.

There was plenty of evidence of the deepening darkness of the world throughout our visit, with most people oblivious to the decay, both moral and physical, that seemed so apparent to us. Perhaps city dwellers have developed an invisible armor against the constant onslaught, or maybe they have become water-breathers, they've spent so much time in "D'Nile." At times, we wondered what good we could offer in the midst of all of that darkness. In fact, it felt like we'd driven to Denver to spit in the ocean, our contribution was so small.

Surely the Lord knew what he was talking about when he warned that life would go on, business as usual, his promised return taking many unaware.

"As it was in the days of Noah, so it will be at the coming of the Son of Man. For in the days before the flood, people were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, up to the day Noah entered the ark; and they knew nothing about what would happen until the flood came and took them all away. That is how it will be at the coming of the Son of Man." Matthew 24:37-39 (NIV)

Things you won't see in heaven: Scuba gear