Today was arguably one of the worst days of my life. I saw a side of humanity I had only experienced second hand. Something I had seen in movies and heard from friends of friends but never one on one. I saw a family shattered today and it broke me.

Last Wednesday my brother was to have back surgery. A major mountain to climb for any person or family, exacerbated by the fact it had been two years in the making(a story for another day). Tuesday of that week came and the call came to unpack his bag. The surgery had been pushed a week to the following Tuesday. Even the best laid plans are but a breath to the Lord. He had bigger plans.

Chris was disappointed but took it all in stride. It would only be 7 days, and what was that, given he had waited over 729 days already?

I sat at work patiently waiting word on the surgery as I glanced at the clock hoping it would read 5pm sooner. Around 2pm I was told it went well and headed over at 5pm to visit for myself. Upon reaching the hospital I was told not only did it go well but it went so well that his hospital stay of 5 days could be as little as just one day! Who says prayer doesn’t work?? In my estimation the Lord had performed a miracle, so why was it the worst day of my life?

The man was older, perhaps early 40′s. Clutching a stand which held his IV bag he rolled in to the room to take the bed next to Chris. Following behind him was his daughter holding two coffees. She appeared about 22 with long curly hair and a pale complexion. They were reserved, quietly talking to each other as they sipped their coffee. Suddenly her hand was on his stomach, then on his leg…clearly not his daughter. Holding hands and then laying in the small medical bed only further confirmed it.

Weirded out by the whole thing I tried to ignore it and focus on a conversation with my brother and mother. Around the corner comes a little boy followed by a young girl and their mother. My initial thought was the ex-wife and kids had come to visit. Nothing really awkward seemed to occur so why would I think anything different, until I noticed the large diamond on the woman’s hand

The girl left the room moments later and the questions began. Valid questions. And in that moment I knew I had to do something. But what? There is no moment of clear conscience in a rapidly developing situation such as this. And as the lies got thicker like wading through a pool of melted marshmallow I felt sick and jittery.

I left the room, I could no longer take the level of arrogance these lies required. I headed down stairs and outside to make a phone call. I tried five different people before finally getting a hold of someone. Explaining my predicament and looking for guidance didn’t seem to clear the fog any better than I had hoped. There was no black and white answer on this, but something needed to be done. I asked for prayer from several people who had finally responded and headed back up stairs.

Do you speak to the man? Do you plead with his humanity, his moral obligation, the father? Out of his mouth spew lies that only complete his fate. Can he be trusted to understand and do the right thing?

Do you talk to the woman? Do you confirm her questions and give her the answers she seeks? Do you break through the glass and potentially separate a family?

Do you say nothing?

There were so many other questions that raced through my head as I sat there, partially fuming, partially praying. I was thrust in to a situation I did not want to be a part of. It was made my business by being done in front of me. I was torn and I honestly can say I have no idea how counselors and pastors do this on a daily basis without crying every night.

After making my decision I knew the right thing had been done. I sent a text to a friend and told them I was about to break down. I had witnessed a family shattered. They called immediately and talked to me for several minutes calming me down but I was still near tears.

My decision and the end of the story are a powerful piece to this puzzle but I leave them off because I want to pose the above questions to you. What would you do? Would you say something at all? What would you say and to who?

To even consider saying something requires your heart to be in the right place. The anger can not overshadow the situation or people involved. You must be composed and sure of your motives. The Lord must speak through you and not you speaking for the Lord.

When my brother woke about 20 minutes later he gathered a few pieces of the story from the buzz that still resonated through the room.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I’ll tell you later” I said softly. “But know one thing; This right here is why your surgery was moved.”

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