It’s hard to be brave when you’re a Very Small Animal.
(~Piglet, from Winnie the Pooh)
My “Very Small Animal” or rather very small boy or rather medium-sized boy who is growing up much too quickly has been very brave lately, especially Tuesday.
He’s been fighting something for months… aches, fevers, flu-like symptoms, general malaise. My Buddy hasn’t been himself in a while.
And Tuesday I watched him writhe and struggle while they took six vials of blood from him to test him for all sorts of things that this momma doesn’t even want to think about. Things like lupus, rheumatoid arthritis, lyme disease, thyroid dysfunction…
And, y’all, I’m a mess.
The mess began when his vein blew. Yes. He inherited his momma’s veins. Two vials in and they had to re-stick him.
The mess got worse when I heard his quavering voice beg the nurse, “Please, can you be done now? Please, stop!”
And then I shoved the mess all down inside me, because I don’t want him to know what a mess I am over this, because I don’t want him to worry. Right now all he’s worried about is that he’ll have to have blood taken again, because he doesn’t “ever want to go through that again, Mom.” And I cry on the phone with Monica, who has watched her child suffer in ways I can’t even begin to grasp, and I hear understanding, tenderness, compassion, and then I become an even bigger mess.
This on the heels of a tooth extraction for my Bear on Monday because for some odd reason he had one tooth come in with no enamel on it.
Then yesterday was jam-packed with doctors for me and more blood tests and more decisions to be made.
And now today I am in bed with the stomach flu.
And I am an even worse mess.
I have been so overwhelmed with all the doctor’s appointments and trying to fix meals and keep my home together that I barely have any time to sit, and when I do, I cry. A lot.
There is a pervasive heaviness that is squeezing my heart so I can’t breathe. Waiting on Asher’s blood tests is killing me… dealing with stuff from my appointments yesterday… wondering how we’re going to pay for it all… stretching leftovers night after night to get us through…
I want to see Jesus. I know in my heart He is there, but the walls of life are just way too high and are blocking my view.
Then I read to my little ones this morning before school and we sing, “Ask, and it shall be given unto you. Seek and ye shall find. Knock and it shall be opened unto you.”
So I ask, I seek and knock.
And I know He will answer, because He always does.
I will keep asking, keep seeking and keep knocking.
And I will keep waiting.
Will you ask and seek and knock for me? for us?
I just want to see Jesus in the mess.