Can I say that?
I need to say that.
I’m willing to bet you are too.
For different reasons perhaps but either way, hurt hurts.
A friend of mine, Bob Hostetler, recently delivered a life changing key note speech that flung open any doors my heart secretly tried to keep hidden.
I am all of those today. In truth, I am all of those, all of the time. At least, I want to be.
Before God. Before others.
I spent thirty-two years pretending I wasn’t. I can’t do that anymore. I won’t.
Yesterday I watched my son hurt in ways I can’t take away.
There are no magic words. No magic touch.
We received good news from the cardiologist. His echo cardiogram looked great. The abnormalities on the EKG were thoroughly checked and they are normal. He does need to wear a heart monitor for two weeks to address his palpitations but this is a precautionary step the cardiologist wants him to take so we can say without a doubt, that none of this is due to his heart.
Thank you Abba, thank you.
BUT IT STILL HURTS
When the cardiologist left the room my son burst into tears.
“I’m still hurting,” he said.
At this point, going to any doctor seems counterproductive. His mind can’t process this the way ours can. He knows why we’re there and yet secretly hopes with each doctor that examines him, that they can make it all go away.
He turned toward the wall so I rubbed his back. He pulled away from my touch. He’s never done that. When he did, the sword that’s been lodged in my heart since April 21, twisted even further.
I’m right here honey, let me hold you.
He was hurting too bad in that moment. Too confused.
I sat down silently asking God to do what I couldn’t.
YET ANOTHER APPOINTMENT
We went straight from there to see the pain management doctor. After what happened at the cardiologist I hesitated to even go. I knew this wasn’t going to be what he wanted it to be.
If one thing was said that would help him to deal with this or help Frank & I to help him, the pros tipped the scale.
Elijah turns eleven tomorrow. The biggest Lego set in the world can’t replace the wish that he could simply not hurt.
We’re working on the big Lego part, but the other part I’m leaving to God.
With an enduring faith. Not a fickle one, moved by the waves as they crash.
No, one that sits by the ocean, aware of it’s massive power.
Feeling its breeze.
Hearing its voice.
Assured that it is kept in its place by God.
And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not. Gal 6:9 Click To Tweet
Galatians 6:9 And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.
Posted on: June 14, firstname.lastname@example.org