Last night was rough. My dear sweet Dash was in the worst pain I’ve ever seen him in. He moaned and cried and wailed all. night. long.
I couldn’t do a single thing to make him feel better. I had no pain reliever in the house, it was too late to go out for anything – in our small town everything closes early. He didn’t want me touching him to try and soothe him. But he wanted me near. He cried out for me all night. He begged me to make him feel better.
I threw my fists to the sky and got angry at God.
How much more does my son have to go through?!
Lyme disease since birth and now such ear pain that he couldn’t do anything but cry.
Why was He allowing my son to be sick?
How much more could we handle?
I told Dash I was mad that he was so sick. And it confused him. He didn’t understand why I was mad. He thought I was mad at him. I quickly tried to explain that I was angry that he was in pain. Out of no where, like he was a mind reader – he said, don’t be mad at Jesus, He is a good guy.
He is. Yes. He is. And He didn’t make my sweet boy sick. We live in a fallen world of sickness and pain. That’s just a fact. And my son caught a cold, which turned into an infection, which brought on pain. It’s just a fact of life here on earth.
I bowed my head, and in my heart told God I was sorry for taking it out on Him.
I just felt so damn helpless and my son was crying for me to make it better and I couldn’t.
First thing in the morning, without brushing my teeth, or my hair, or changing out of my sweats, I rushed him to the minute clinic at CVS. His ear was oozing at this point, pooling in the cup of his ear, and dripping out onto his shirt. I worked at keeping his mind off the pain but inevitably he felt it and cried and whimpered while we waited for our turn.
He has a bad ear infection.
I didn’t need a doctor to tell me what I already knew but I did need the doctor to prescribe medicine to make my baby feel better. Which she did. Oral antibiotics and ear drop antibiotics to be taken for ten days. With pain medicine and antibiotics, I lay him down in his bed when we got home, put on cartoons, covered him up, stroked his back, prayed as I touched him, and let him drift off to sleep. Which he did. sleep. for hours. Oh what relief. My mother’s heart could ease back into a comfortable place again. It was so broken last night.
He woke up like a new little man. Already feeling much better. He played with his bubble gun for a few minutes and smiled and laughed.
I would do anything for this little boy. I would lay my own life down in a heartbeat for him. Sacrificing sleep to do my best to console him is such a small thing I could do. I would lose sleep every night to cure him of Lyme disease and anything else that ails him – but I know I can’t do that. I don’t have the power to heal him. Only God has that power. And yes, God works through people – through hands being laid on the sick, and the authority of the believer, but when it comes down to it, it’s GOD’S power that heals. What I can do is love my son. Hold my son. Nurture my son. And pray for him. Always pray for him.
I am blessed to be the one he calls out for when he’s hurting.
And thankful that when I throw my fists to the sky, angry at my heavenly Father, He understands where its coming from, and has compassion on this mother’s heart.