Little Did I know…
That not eight hours after writing that last post, my own words would be put to the test.
I sit here at 9 o’clock at night waiting on God once again.
Waiting on Him to take care of my son. Because I can’t.
I can’t make the fever go down. I can’t determine what’s causing it. I can’t even be the one to take him to the hospital. My husband did that.
My little boy. My precious first-born son. I am forced to surrender him, not by my own will, into the care of strangers in the middle of the night. I had nothing to give him but prayers and reassurance as I pulled a sweatshirt over his flushed cheeks. Trying to be calm and smile, pretending not to be upset, I had nothing to give him but his green blankie and his Daddy’s arms for comfort.
As far as a mother is concerned, that’s not enough. I am helpless, handcuffed.
My own words – His words – echoed in the back of my mind as they hurried out into the chilly night, me still on the phone as the doctor warned: “If he passes out in the car, pull over and call 911 immediately.”
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.
Have I taken care of your children before?
Do I love them more than you do?
But I’m still scared, Lord. I’m still scared.
And so this is still a live promise…
God means what he says. What He says goes. His powerful Word is sharp as a surgeon’s scalpel, cutting through everything, whether doubt or defense, laying us open to listen and obey. Nothing and no one is impervious to God’s Word. We can’t get away from it—no matter what.
Now that we know what we have—Jesus, this great High Priest with ready access to God—let’s not let it slip through our fingers. We don’t have a priest who is out of touch with our reality. He’s been through weakness and testing, experienced it all—all but the sin. So let’s walk right up to him and get what He is so ready to give. Take the mercy, accept the help.
Hebrews 4:8-16 The Message.
I believe, Lord! Help me with my unbelief.