The following is an excerpt from a novel I have been wrestling with. . . . . . . 

 

While praying over Samuel’s motionless body, Jennie walks in with a bag that appears to have books in it. “Dad, Samuel has been working long and hard on a project and I know he wants you to have these.” She was obviously fighting back tears as she handed Eugene the bag.

 

Eugene feels the weight of the bag as he takes it and asks, “Are these books?”

 

“No, Samuel has been reading and writing non-stop for a while now and these are his journals. After he finished the first couple, he specifically told me to give them to you if anything happened to him before he had a chance to finish them.”

 

Eugene slowly unzipped the bag and peaked inside to what looked like seven or eight hardback journals. He pulled one out and on the front was the number “3” written in the top right corner. He put that one back and pulled out another. That one said, “1: Start here” in the upper right-hand cover. The journals were all the same kind: Black, hardback, with a flap that came around the right side and kept them shut by magnet. He opened it and thumbed through the entire journal and glanced at Samuel’s writing. For a second, it gave him flashbacks of when Samuel would bring his papers home from school and proudly show his grade. The handwriting in his journals was neater than it was on those old papers, but the distinct style of cursive writing was definitely Samuel’s. Instead of beginning to read right there in the hospital, Eugene decides to put the journal back in the bag and wait to read them when he’s in his office.

 

“Wow, Jennie, I always knew Samuel was a good writer but I didn’t realize he was still writing.”

 

“Yes, he’s been writing pretty regularly now for the last couple of years. He talked about giving you the first two or three journals to read but then he decided he didn’t want anything to hinder his progress.”

 

“So, what is the topic of all these journals?”

 

“Oh, I think it’s best if you just hear it straight from Samuel himself. I don’t want to misrepresent him in any way,” Jennie says while she puts her hand on Eugene’s shoulder.

 

The warmth of Jennie’s hand on his shoulder causes Eugene’s emotions to reach their boiling point and the knot that was in his throat explodes in a gasp. Instantly Eugene embraces Jennie and they both begin to sob for what feels like ten minutes.

 

Jennie breaks the silence, “We’ll be ok, dad. If Samuel is meant to wake up from his coma, he’ll wake up. If he’s not meant to wake up, he has lived a full and happy life.”

 

While Jennie loosens her grip so she can wipe the tears off her cheek, she began to regain her composure.

 

And yet, Eugene continues to sob: “I’m in this hospital week after week for other people’s unfortunate events and I tell every family that God is in control,” he says while he wipes his eyes and blows his nose into his handkerchief. “It never occurred to me just how empty and shallow those words feel until today. Seeing my pride and joy—my miracle boy—hooked up to all those machines makes me feel more helpless than ever.”