More than anything, a mother of faith wants her children to be close to God, healthy and happy. Since September the little ones I prayed for have been plagued with illness. No time to even wonder why all the sickness magnetized to our doorstep-just forge ahead with caring for them, appointments and perseverance.
Nine years a mother I know that I haven't learned it all; yet much of my peace in the abundance of suffering around us I know well from the love God sent me all through other times of illness. During my father's long health battle the patience of my roommate, apartment mates and college friends covered me with solace. As my mother battled leukemia, my new husband made a 6 hour round trip car ride in the cold of winter to wipe my tears. My precious friend sat two days with me in the hospital room as she suffered the effects of the harsh medicine that healed her. Threats on loved ones lives bring us to our knees. Presence of love softens those moments as they appear, disappear and return again.
Our firstborn son's health worries stretched our hearts. Love and support came flowing toward him from the Benedictine sisters convent in the form of prayers. My childhood priest prayed over Luke and anointed him after Mass. A mother of a classmate arranged the whole prayer service upon seeing us for a moment at church. His cranial diagnosis of fused plates meant brain surgery. Yet, in no time astounding news that he did not need that surgery shocked us and relieved us. A short pause and then the announcement of a severe heart murmur threw us again. A very large hole in his heart, (VSD) was causing him much trouble eating and growing. Just as we thought he was improving he had to begin medication. If that didn't work he would need open heart surgery to repair the hole. Soon he was truly out of the woods. In that time we received 2 prayers shawls knitted and sent with prayer cards. Tucked in his diaper bag, one blanket went with us everywhere. The other stayed home so we had prayers no matter what. Then, as that storm was quieting, our baby soon need to visit the U of M for cranial study. He was prescribed a helmet to help shape his head. We were told he would need to wear this for 2 years for 23 hours a day. Learning to take this on and off and judge his progress was full time work. An angel from our church made the weekly trips to Ann Arbor with us and helped our little man endure the long rides as his helmet was measured and readjusted. Just as I was cracking under the stress of driving tough Michigan weather, we were told his helmet wasn't doing the job, it was actually not the best thing and a quick 6 week stint was all it took to get his head growing properly. We no longer had to go to the U of M and his specialists there were ecstatic with his progress.
Relief, exhaustion and abundant gratitude lead us to a novena to the Holy Spirit which we prayed and then sent to all our family, friends, and religious community in thanksgiving for the way their prayers had covered us like a blanket of protection and comfort in all the months of medical visits and various frightening diagnoses.
Those months of stress were lessons not just to accept sick times but reminded me that God is Grace. Even in the midst of trials so hard on the human heart the thin thread of a blanket becomes the clear evidence of God's love.
Time and time again I cannot deny the grace present to me through friends and family. God nudges people both dear to my heart and on the fringe of my world to get to me. Together, each little quick prayer, each card, phone call and hug knits all together into the covering I need around me to not only survive, but grow through the unexpected.
These recent piggyback illnesses have made me feel weak and ask God if this is my new normal? And just as I could have been sucked in to searching up new diseases on the internet for my toddler, God found a new way to remind me of his love. He found an incredible way to protect me from my fears and anxiety and use even my smallest gift as a way to blanket me with his astounding love. My friend invited me to partner with her in an endeavor writing an article for her Wonderfully Made birthing course. Tony and I took the class with each of our 3 sons. Her faith in me renewed my weary spirit. While typing away did not diminish the shock of my youngest son's intestinal infection diagnosis; hearing the words of the holy spirit flowing from her and working toward something so valuing of human life, I received God's outpouring love once again.
Sickness still lingers as I reflect on these last few days. There have been more hours of crying today than laughter. My precious boys will eventually get healthy. These winter days will give way to better times. My boys physically blanket me with their little bodies and I am confident the Great Healer hears my prayers.
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