How I Dealt With My Child's Chronic Illness

I was crying.  

It was becoming more often and I didn't know what to do.  My baby boy was diagnosed with a chronic illness and I felt helpless and afraid. Terrified, actually, and desperate.  Desperate for life to go back to what it was before, to end what was so unfair for him and to be able to protect him like a mommy should.  

I had prayed about it, said all the right things, done all the research.  I became a diabetes fanatic, checking his blood sugar around the clock, documenting, finding trends, searching for anything that would make it better.  This uninvited guest stayed and with every finger poke and insulin shot my boy was a trooper. I was falling down a dark hole, jealous of other moms who didn't have to endure this, mad at the world because they didn't understand, but mostly it was the despair that circled me round and round like a slow tornado, tripping me up, making me feel helpless and guilty that I couldn't make him better.

I cried and worried and prayed in the middle of the night when no one would see. My sweet husband was asleep and he'd been through enough without me falling apart on him again. This particular night I frantically cried out to God in a way I'd ever done before, asking Him what to do, was my son going to be okay, how was he going to live like this for the rest of his life, would he even live a long life?  

And God answered.

In my flurry of thoughts and tears, my mind became still and silent and I heard:

'Don't you think I love him, too?'

Everything in me stopped.  My tears stopped.  Time stopped.  I sat up and looked around as my husband slept soundly.  I just had a miraculous moment but there was no one else there to witness it.  He had spoken to me as if He was in the room.  It's hard to explain, it wasn't verbal, but when you know that you know....it was Him and He had taken the time to speak to ME.

It was as if someone had gently taken me by my shoulders and shook me. I realized I had never truly turned over one problem to God, not this one, not any. The fact that He loved my son as much as I did, MORE than I did, had never dawned on me.  Which meant that my son had a Father and protector that was greater than anything that I could offer or imagine. He was all knowing and in control, and if I let Him, He would overcome my fears, my despair and any disease. He's got this and more importantly, He wanted the best outcome for my little guy even MORE THAN ME.  I still have a hard time wrapping my brain around it sometimes.

From that day forward, I slept soundly.  My despair was gone.  Of course, the fears would try to continue to creep in but those were always quieted with the memory of that moment.  God is not the author of fear. I knew that my son would be okay. 

If you are dealing with a child with an illness, or anything, for that matter...

Dig down deep, when you really think about it, you know that you know...

He loves them too. 

❤️, Elizabeth