A Medical Mama’s Tips, Tricks and Tales

History and Harbor Views

Peter walked on water, Moses walked through water, Moses’s mom, well, she had the faith to let her baby go in the water to save him.

God said, “when you walk through the waters, I will be there.” Isaiah 43:2

The view from the MUSC Children’s Hospital is the notorious Charleston Harbor. And, when I look back in history, I don’t think I am alone in this feeling: I hate these freakin’ harbor views sometimes.

When I look at this harbor, I see the vast seas, I hear the clank of the waves against the sea wall, I smell the salt air, I see the beautiful Ravenel bridge.. I imagine the dolphin feeding, the sea turtles skirting by, I imagine generations of shrimp boaters who came home, exhausted from another days work… I see the ultra wealthy in their yachts and imagine their wild, upside down lives, and I see the tourists trying to escape their mundane realities. I see the weddings, life just starting all over the waterfront – who knows what’s to come for these people, promising forever when they have no idea what tomorrow will hold.

There’s so much life here in this one spot full of shipping terminals, tourist boat tours, and generations of history. God’s creative handiwork is everywhere; colorful fish, cool animal adaptations, breath taking sunsets…

Newness, unknowns, hope… and yet?

We can can reflect.

We can lament.

And, we do not cry without our Savior deeply caring about every single tear this harbor has held for generations.

Where was God as slave trade covered the city, as babies were taken from moms to be forced to work? As boats carrying men and women ripped from their families were docked in the harbor with signs that read “for sale?” Where was He as the first shots of civil war were fired? Who knows how many men, how many Daddies or sons were killed in these very waters?

Where was he at the crack of-the whip as black people were beaten and lashed when this was a hub for slave trade? Where was the God of the harbor when the young slave Robert Smalls planned his mission to steal a ship full of ammo, with his beautiful babies and wife; As Robert dodged bullets from rich white men, men who’d only known freedom, who loved the “hi-life” of cotton and slavery enough they’d fight a war for it; did he feel the presence of the God who created all the natural beauty of the harbor? This very harbor. Peace unexplainable, bullets falling just short? Did Robert scream out to God when the bullets hit; when each one could have exploded the ship with the people he knew and loved most aboard? Did he lament, “where are you God???”

The harbor’s waves lapped at the edges of Mt Pleasant and Charleston and the sea creatures simply passed by as the Hunley sank? Really? How did the world go on when 8 men died in a confederate submarine? Or 5 in the Union war ship? Was God busy comforting their families, wives, … weeping mommas? Or, was God giving justice for a war over slavery?

Where was He this year as the young college student jumped into the harbor to his death from the Ravenel Bridge? Where when depression was raging in his heart? Or with his mom who desperately searched and searched, I am sure her tears enough to fill the sea?

They did a wild thing building a children’s hospital looking at this harbor full of history. You see there’s infinite stories in the waves here; in the edges of this sea. There’s generations of trauma, and now my song of lament, my tears are added to these waters as I long to be outside of this Children’s hospital but am instead stuck inside watching my child suffocate.

These are the notes of the rough waves, yelling, God, part the seas. God, give inexplainable peace, God, give faith when we cannot see. God, “your ways are not my ways.” Who is this God we wrestle with who allows us to look at the ebbs and flows of the tide, waves crashing, and know His control, yet, leaves us with very little of our own?

He is the God in the pit with Joseph, who promises he hems us in – in front of and behind as we walk through rough waters, in the lion’s den with Daniel, in the water with Moses and with his mom – brave enough to let him go. He is the God at the well with the “dirty” woman, and the God who turns tables for injustice. And, he is a God who is personal. Who weeps. Who cares about even the count of how many IV pricks my baby’s gotten. He cares about my most mundane concerns and my biggest fears. That’s our hope. This God who loves and cares.

Pray.

When I am drowning, give me faith. Hold me up, this is my harbor song. Remind me of Your control, Your goodness, and Your ways – so different than mine. Remind me, you are here in the harbor, just like you were in the pit with Joseph, in the water with Moses, on the shoreline with his mom; in the parted seas with the Israelites, in the barn with Mary, at the well with the outcast woman, on the cross with Your only begotten son.

Isaiah 55:8-9

8 “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. 9 “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.

Was it not you who dried up the sea, the waters of the great deep, who made a road in the depths of the sea so that the redeemed might cross over?

Isaiah 51:10