I love the many amenities we have in America. As a mom and wife who is also employed full-time, I enjoy options when the day is busy. I love the ability to pick out my groceries online, and create a click-list for easy pickup. I know when I choose my pickup time, the groceries will be wheeled out to me. Don’t feel like cooking dinner? In my small town, I have a few restaurants who can help me out. Whether it’s fast food or pick-up, I can have my dinner ready with just a short drive to a fine eating establishment.
I appreciate these shortcuts in life. Sometimes, saving myself from an hour in the grocery store will give me time to complete another task that otherwise would not get done. Access to dining options is a must when the busyness of my day precluded me from planning for a meal. Life is full, and these small conveniences help.
Parenting a child with special and medical needs comes with a daily to-do list. Lately, this to-do list has grown as my sweet daughter’s heart condition has worsened. There are additional medications and monitoring to do each day. Every time there has been a change in my daughter’s health status, I know I am going to need time to adjust to our new routines and to a new emotional state.
I have been thinking lately about how much things have changed unexpectedly this year. There has been much that is out of my control. I cannot fix my daughter’s health. My type A personality wants to attack the problem head on, research the diagnosis, and give all my energy into her care. Yet, at the end of the day, I can only do so much. The heart valve will still leak. That stiff part of her heart will still be stiff. Her pulmonary pressures will still be too high.
I would like to drive up to some magical office building and order into a speaker, “Yes, I’d like to order an easy day for my family please.”
At this imaginary place, the clerk would answer, “Ok. Pull around. We’ll fix that for you.”
Then my daughter, if only for a day, would have a fully functioning heart and lungs. She wouldn’t sit for two hours a day doing nebulizer and vest treatments. I would not have to pop open any pill bottles for her. The machines that help her with various problems would have a day off too, and we would all have a load taken off our minds.
That place doesn’t exist in real life, obviously. But this is a Christian website, so I know what some of you may be thinking.
I realize I have access to the God in Heaven, the creator of all things, and the life-giver. Prayer can change things. I do believe this.
Perhaps, it’s my mental state, exhaustion of being a caregiver, or my American mentality, but I’d like to pray for a miracle once and for it to happen immediately.
That’s not exactly how all miracles happen, especially as seen through the Bible.
Jesus instantly healed a woman in a synagogue who was crippled and bent over, but she had the affliction for 18 years (Luke 13:10). A woman was healed of her bleeding condition just by touching the edge of the cloak Jesus wore, but she had 12 years of being in that condition before Jesus came into her life (Luke 8: 41). A man described as an “invalid” for 38 years waited by a pool for his healing, but was never made well until Jesus stepped onto the scene (John 5: 5).
These people suffered for a long time. Yet, when they had one encounter with Jesus their entire life changed. They positioned themselves to be in a place that could provide healing, which I think speaks to the hope that they carried in their hearts. They hoped that their situation would change. They pressed on even after years of hardship.
They inspire me to press on as well. I will keep attending church, having my quiet time with God, and looking to Him. I’ll pray for a miracle for my daughter, and I’ll pray that I can have hope and faith until that day comes.
