The thing I dread the most is losing one of my children. Just the thought terrifies me. And of course, being a paranoid, crazy mother, just about everything sends my thoughts in that direction. That being said, I then begin to feel guilty about being so terrified of death and dying when I serve a God who is in total control. We can't run from death, we can't avoid the inevitable, and we live in a fallen world where tragedy happens every day.
I do my best to comfort myself with the thought that my faith and relationship with God could get me through the worst possible thing.
Recently God has been working on me. On my pride, on my procrastination and on my presumption that He doesn't care or need to know about every little thing. Leilee was recently diagnosed with a branchial cleft cyst or fistula, which is, most simply put, a hole in her neck. We are waiting for our appointment at Children's... they can't get us in until December. Instead of falling on my knees before God and praying for healing for my daughter, I have been waiting. Of course, I told a couple people - mostly family, and I've asked for a little prayer, but for the most part I have been biding my time looking up information on the Internet (stu-uupid!) and waiting for the "experts" to tell me what will happen. I already know it will be some testing and most likely surgery. So instead of being certain God is going to heal her, I have lazily assumed that He'll just get us through this. Jason on the other hand has called pastor and people in our church and prayed and asked others for prayer for healing. While he is certain God will heal her, I am hanging back and testing the waters. I dare not hope in such a thing, since this is so little... God can definitely heal her - but it seems like such a small thing. My plan is that we go through all the doctor drama and then God heals her the morning of the surgery. I should know better than to make plans for God.
So anyway, the hole is still there. I am still tormenting myself about my stubbornness. I have at least shared, with eyes full of tears, with the women at my Bible Study. I was certain that night that what God wanted was for me to go up for an altar call and pray for healing for her. We hadn't, and God has wanted me to step out in the past. I resist stepping out whenever possible, so once again, I find myself doing the same thing. So today, I was waiting on the edge of the pew, ready to race up there before Pastor Morlin even had the invitation all the way out of his mouth. And guess what? NO ALTAR CALL!! The first times in MONTHS that we haven't had an altar call. I about lost it right there. There was even a word and interpretation that God was here, He was right there waiting for us. I was SO SURE that I knew what God wanted me to do. And then, bam, that must not be it. I am still confused about this.
To add to my own personal battle, there have been no less than four deaths today that have impacted people in my town. All of them tragic, all of them sudden. I am seeing my greatest fear manifesting itself in the lives of others, and for some reason, I am so full of emotion about it. I'm imagining the pain I would feel if this were my little sister or my child or my mother that this happened too and I am just overcome. I am at a loss as to what to do other than cry and pray... which is what I would do anyway. I serve an awesome God, a God whose wisdom is wiser than man's foolishness and whose strength is stronger than our weakness, a God who knew us before we were formed and who knit us in our mother's womb. I serve a God who is the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. He is my Father, He is my Savior, He is my strength and my salvation. God uses all things for good; He uses all things for His glory. I have no clue how these tragedies are to be used for good, I am so confused as to how He will be glorified through these awful things. All I can do is cry and pray. And wait and see.