It was a “normal” day. Routine was in full swing. Time for dinner was soon approaching. I busied myself preparing and putting the final touches on dinner. My girl was upstairs in her room not feeling well. Checking on her periodically, something just didn’t feel right. My entire being filled with an uneasiness…call it mother’s intuition, I don’t know.
“We need to go back to the doctor,” I said. She asked for us to wait. So many things scared her or made her uneasy. Doctors were on her list.
Dinner almost ready. Final touches…I hear steps coming down the stairs. Her posture, her complexion, her tears…not good!
“I need to take you to the ER.” She said, “ok.” My stomach sank further. My body began to shake. “She said ‘yes’, this is not good”, was my thought. “Maybe it’s just a virus,” I calmed myself.
We entered that place where our lives would for ever change. The smells, the sounds, the faces. The face of a innocent little girl, pale, sweaty, scared. As a Mom, I so wanted to shield her from all of this, BUT I could not! My heart ached!
I held her, touched her, smiled and remained “steady”, calm and collected. I needed to! She looked to me to be her strength and assurance. I looked to Him. There was no other way.
Tests, needles, exams —– screams! Those screams! All I could do was hold my girl ever so tightly…BUT I could not stop them from “hurting her”. Oh, the nightmares…the agony!
More and more tests, exams, needles…the night passed.
Faces, nods, grim prognosis, papers…the feeling of sinking sand taking you under with a violent pull that can’t be stopped. You grasp, but there is nothing to grasp. Yet somehow, you know there is a Presence holding you tight.
The room! The test! The confirmation!
The looks…the news!
The weight of the world fell on us! Breath was sucked from our lungs! Yet, we were held by the One who holds the power of life and death in His hands.
July 16, 2016 – a date etched sharply on my heart.