Journaling God’s Faithfulness

My son was sick this week. The type of sick that is worrisome.  His temperature was 103.5, he would not eat, he would barely sleep, and his normal demeanor that I like to classify as crazy, was subdued.  He didn’t wan’t to explore.  Hardly smiled or laughed.  And he fell asleep at 5 pm in my husband’s arms holding an uneaten cracker.

Around 8 pm he woke up and his body was on fire.  His legs and arms, however, were covered in goosebumps and he was shivering.  I held him all night, and we desperately tried to get him to take medicine, and keep him hydrated as best we could.  I remember sitting there in his rocker with his turtle lamp that illuminates stars on to his ceiling to keep me company.  I wonder if the manufacturer’s who put those pieces together know and understand the comfort that assembled product brings.  I wonder if they know that as my son was shivering in my arms, yet his skin was almost too hot to touch, that those stars brought me hope.  I wonder if they knew these things, if they’d have a renewed sense of purpose to what they do.  Maybe I’ll write to them and let them know.

And so there I was, holding Chip while Cy went to Walgreens to get some Motrin.  We had given him Tylenol but our close friend who is also a pediatrician suggested switching between Mortin and Tylenol every three hours as needed.  And so we did.  I don’t know the semantics behind medicine, but I do know that our Dr. does and when you have a fiery-hot body in your arms who is shaking and his teeth are chattering in his sleep, you do what the doctor says.  And you also pray.  Because honestly that’s all I know how to do.  It gets me through the day, grants me forgiveness and teaches me to grant the same, and brings me comfort and hope.

I’ve been reading through Psalm 145 these past few weeks, and when you spend time reading the same passage over and over, the words start to stick in your brain and they become part of your beating heart.  And it was there, in that dark room that I was reminded, “The Lord is faithful in all His words, and He is kind in all His works.”  (Psalm 145:13b) And I thought back to the Gospels and the stories of Jesus healing the sick and the weak, and I begged and I pleaded that He would show that same grace and mercy on Chip. And me. and Cy. And us. As a family.

And as I meditated on this, I’m  made so very aware that if I choose to say these words and to believe them then I must believe the no matter what the next few hours bring, or what happens with Chip’s fever.  I must hold on to the fact that I truly believe that Chip is God’s child first.  And if I, made up of broken and sinful love, love him as much as I do, and Cy loves him as much as his sinful being does, then how much more, does God, who is perfect and whose love is far greater than I could ever grasp….how much more does He, love Chip? Infinitely more.  And so I must press on.  And I must believe that He will heal Chip for He loves Him and He cares for him.

Also in Psalm 145 it says, ” One generation shall commend your works to another, and shall declare your mighty acts.” (v.4)  And I just get this picture of Chip, older, maybe in college or beyond and he’s living his life which we all know has its ups and downs.  And he’s tired, frustrated, worried, and he’s contemplating where God is.  And, if he’s like me, which he is in so many ways, he is questioning why situation “x” has happened and he’s calculating his steps and wondering why he is deserving what he’s getting.  Or, he’s happy, joyful, over the top excited about life, and he’s so excited that he’s speechless. Yet he’s jumping for joy and if he’s like Cy, which he is in so many ways, he’s looking for an opportunity to shout it from the rooftops.  And it dawned on me that I don’t want those moments to be the first time that Chip is aware of  God’s faithfulness. I want him to know that God has been in his life, working in his life, and guiding his life from the day he was conceived.  That since he was little, God has always been there.

That He stopped him from pre-term labor so that He would develop to his full potential.

That He brought him here safely.

That He provided food and nourishment for him every day.

That at 6 months when he was sick and wouldn’t eat solids for a week, He was there.

I want him to find comfort in the ways that God moved in his life.  To find joy in looking back and seeing how and what God did.

Starting with this fever he had, that he no longer does.

And so I bought a journal and the first page has that verse. A command that each generation should tell the next generation of God’s faithfulness.  The verse that as a mom, I must, MUST carry on.

And I plan to tape his hospital bracelets to it, so that it’s always identifiable.  And I will write of ways that God was faithful, and I will write of exciting things, scary things, and in all things I will give God glory. Even when I don’t understand the circumstances, I will write down what God is doing.  For I truly believe that one day, as Chip reads these notes, he too will see God’s hand.  And the times that we aren’t sure or when the details I’m writing about seem so small and insignificant, that someday, in this life or next, it will be made known of why God moved the way He did.  And how good He truly is.