It stinks how sometimes it takes a series of tragic events for us to realize just how great we have it. Often times we get upset about the hand we've been dealt. Then tragedy strikes around us and we say to ourselves, "Whew, at least that didn't happen to me."
I've had so many trials to conquer in my life, but in the grand scheme of things they've been minimal. Tiny specks of sand in the endless coastline of sorrow. The crashing waves just barely touching. When there are those whose troubles are like the jagged boulders getting relentlessly beat by the tireless waves.
Ok, enough with the metaphorical mumbo jumbo.
My somber state comes from the bereavement of families around me. In the last few weeks, I personally know two families that have lost children to chronic illnesses and one that has lost their father. Some of this is hitting way too close to home. A little two year old boy very similar to Joshua lost his battle with short bowel syndrome. The longevity of this disorder paid a toll on his little body and it just couldn't hold out anymore. My heart aches for his mom.
I can't imagine.
Maybe it's being naive, maybe it's the ostrich syndrome, but I just don't ever go "there" in my mind. I can't think about how I would feel if the Lord called home our sweet boy.
Any of them for that matter.
But, when you're dealing with a child with a chronic condition, that particular child's state of health is understandibly foremost on your list of parental concerns.
Just think about it.
After days, weeks, months staying in the hospital, how do you pack up your things, including your child's dirty laundry, favorite toys and blanket still holding his scent.
How do you leave your child's lifeless body? The hospital bed? The hospital room?
How do you leave the Children's Hospital without your child?
How do you leave?
How do you go home as a family of 4 when you left as a family of 5?
His bed still unmade and toys left from play.
See, this is why I don't go "there."
Oh, Lord. I know you have your reasons, please help us to understand. Please be with those families having to do just what I've described. Please God, spare us from having to live through such pain.
I wish I had the right words for my friend. I'm sure everything most of us can think to say sounds so cliche. So empty.
"He's in a better place."
"He's not hurting anymore."
"You did everything you could've done for him."
Those are exactly the only kinds of things I could think to say to her.
In a time such as this, all we have is our faith. I did tell her that I believed whole-heartedly that when he was to pass on, no doubt, he would be in Heaven, no longer suffering. She must trust in God.
My faith in the Lord encourages, stabilizes and strengthens. But, that having been said, I know that the only way I could make it through something like what these two moms are dealing with would be to conquer one battle at a time. And fall apart in tears between them.
So much of our complaints in life are about inconveniences, truly. Even with my son's illnesses.
It's inconvenient to have to stop my day and contact the doctor.
It's inconvenient to have to pack our bags and head to the ER.
It's inconvenient to have to wait 5-6 hours in the ER before the doctor finally decides what we're doing.
It's inconvenient that the room we're being admitted into, isn't ready.
It's inconvenient that we can't stay on our favorite floor.
It's inconvenient that we will be in house for over a week.
It's inconvenient that we have to drag a pole around the hospital so my son can ride his tricycle.
It's inconvenient that we were in isolation for two days.
Shame on me. I'm so blessed.
I know two families right now that would LOVE to have these INCONVENIENCES.
I am so blessed.
If ye shall ask any thing in my name, I will do it. If ye love me, keep my commandments. And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter that he may abide with you for ever.
I have a Comforter.
I am so blessed.