He Knows what He's Doing

This past week has been torture. Last Saturday night, Bo got sick again. High fever, throwing up, moaning in pain. Then his eyes started swelling, which had me in full-fledged panic mode. I could tell it looked like an allergic reaction, but my pediatrician wanted us to take him to "be seen," and the only place to "be seen" on Sunday is the emergency room. Back to that place. Zac took him (I still can't bear the thought), and he was sent home with a "fever" and they said the swollen eyes were due to an allergy. They did not test him for flu, even though I suspect that's what he had. They did a urine test since he had HSP a few weeks ago. As I said on a previous post, damage to the kidneys is the most severe side effect of HSP, and the way they test for that is to measure protein in the urine. His urine showed traces of protein (of course), so we spent the week having blood and urine tests. Another round of tests. Everyone, including my pediatrician, assured me they thought he was fine, but exactly one year ago, we were doing similar tests on Webb and they were saying the same thing. And he was not fine. Back then, my instinct kept me having more and more tests run on Webb. This time, with Bo, it was my fear. Now my only real instinct when it comes to the health of my children is fear. Because regardless of what I know is rational, I had the worst happen, and the chances of the worst happening were low. Why would this time be any different? Two tortuous days of waiting for tests results laster, the outcome was different. Bo is fine. His kidneys were unaffected. The trace protein was just that - trace amounts, and it was probably due to the fever. I found myself crying out to God, shouting praises to Him, thanking Him for positive test results. But this is no way to live. Every fever, every cough, every hurt tummy has me fearing the worst. Is it cancer? A deadly disease? Kidney failure? The extremes are no longer distant possibilities. My child had a brain tumor. And died. And I did everything right. Can you even imagine how vulnerable that makes me feel? How out of control? I know God is there. I know He has a plan. I know all of that, but when I am trying so desperately to hold on to my children, to keep them HERE, it seems far away. He seems far away. My soul has been battered and bruised. A small part of me wants to place my boys inside a bubble and leave them there. There are so many things that can happen!!! This world is so unsure, so dangerous sometimes. I had thirty perfect years of ignorant bliss, and now the band-aid has been ripped away. It's hard. So what do I do? I pray, of course, and cling to the Scripture, to God's Word. Bo's favorite song right now is an oldie but goodie we learned growing up. The words are so simple, and I've heard them a million times, but lately I find myself listening to it even when he's not in the car: "The Lord has given His plan to us, no need to fuss, He knows what He's doing and He will always take care of us if we will follow Him. God's way is the best way." He knows what He's doing. I know that. He is taking care of us. I know that. It was his perfect plan to give me Webb on the same day He gave me Whit, and it was His plan to bring him home December 26, 2008. I know that, even though I don't understand that. But I am not supposed to. I will still follow Him. His way is the best way, but His thoughts are not our thoughts and His plans are not our plans. Lord, please help us to remember that. Please drive every ounce of fear out of our hearts. Assure us You know what You're doing. And give Webb a kiss from me. Amen