A Light in the Night

The other evening, everything was going along fine. Admittedly, one of my sons had been ill earlier, but by the time he went to bed, everything was fine. We all went to bed. In the middle of the night, we heard a sound. We don't hear it that often, but when it comes on, we know to get up right away. It means that our youngest is having an asthma attack.

There's nothing as frightening for a parent, as to experience an ill child, and you're helpless to do anything to help him. We did give him a treatment, but he was still struggling to breathe. In our experience, if you can get him to talk to you, you know he'll be okay. The only thing he could gasp out was, "Get.... me... a bucket."

My hubby Tim took our baby off to the emergency room. He was more in control of the situation. I was losing my cool... and not liking that feeling one bit. I stayed at home... in the middle of the night... feeling dizzy, nauseous, and helpless. I called one friend, then another, then two more who I knew would pray for our little one. In the middle of the night, these friends shone brightly, as they prayed for God's hand to intervene in this situation. Two friends in particular talked to me, helping me not to confuse the events of the person's suicide with what was happening with my son.

A phone call came from my husband at the hospital; he said they were waiting to see the doctor, but that our Sweetie was actually talking and his breathing was better. I sat in the dark after the phone call. I was talking to God, and asking Him to speak to my heart. He sent me where He always does -- to His word. I was directed to Kings, to the story where the widow gave her flour cake to Elijah. Then, something happened to her son: "And his sickness was so serious that there was no breath left in him."

That line of the Bible hit me, considering what was happening to my little boy. I read on. The widow asked Elijah, "What have I to do with you, O man of God. Have you come to me to bring my sin to remembrance, and to kill my son?" I don't know about you, but when my children face any sickness that's serious, I start asking God if He's punishing me for some of my past sins. Now, as an on-fire for Jesus believer, I KNOW that that's not the way God works; however, in those times of tired despair, it's easy to make it about yourself and what you may or may not have done to cause this problem.

The real deal is, the rain falls on the just and the unjust. Every single person has his or her own walk that they have to walk -- one that prayerfully leads them to the loving arms of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. We become so interconnected with our children, that we forget that they are NOT us, but rather a unique person that God wants to use -- separate from us. It is our job to raise up our children in the way that they shall go... and I pray every day that I don't do some fool-hearty thing to mess them up.

While they're in the middle of a medical emergency, we would give ANYTHING for them to be alright. I thank God He raised up the little boy in the time of Elijah. I thank God He is the same, merciful God who helped my son a few nights ago. I thank God for His watchful eye, and the wonderful friends he has given me. Blessed be the name of the Lord!