God of Love

When your baby is sick, the whole world stops.  Nothing matters.  Sleeping, eating, whether or not Bon Jovi died.  You don’t care.  (Alright, you care a little, but only enough to ask your husband in the morning if it was true or not before turning over).  We have had an incredibly stressful week full of late night scares, 3 a.m. phone calls to the hospital, trips to the Pediatric G.I., all to be told that there is not much anyone can do for now.  That we have to wait for it to get worse or better.  I have not slept, not only because she has not slept, but for the fear that something will happen and I will not be on my game to catch it.  There is nothing that feels worse than to be told by someone who is a specialist in the field in which your child is suffering that there is nothing he can do- and he’s a really smart dude.

But through all the panic, all the tears, all the smothering of my (very) small child into my shoulder and all of my questions, it is so good to remember that God never tells me that He doesn’t know what’s going on.  His response is never, “There’s nothing I can do”.  It makes me glad that the one who holds the universe in his hands holds my Ellie girl.  That He made her, He knew her before she was born and there is always something He can do, when no one else can. He is a God of Love.  We’ll rejoice in that today as we wait.



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