It’s easy to say God’s grace is sufficient when everything seems safe and overflowing. It’s another to experience God’s grace is sufficient when everything seems chaotic and lacking.

It’s easy to say His strength is made perfect in our weakness when we feel strong and confident. It’s another thing entirely to desperately fall back on Him when our own weakness and fragility overwhelms us.

It’s been a week since I didn’t feel like throwing up at all hours and unable to eat or sleep. I’m fine, but my son is not. He’s hanging on the edge of a cliff and we are laying at the top reaching for him to come back up. He’s slowly climbing back up.

(It’s happened many times, but I’ve given up writing about it because a reader only can hear the story so many times. And I’m not into drawing out yet another health-saga – each important, but eventually dulling to us as we are inundated by more stories than we can absorb.)

Most of you are used to hearing about his chronic health problems, used to hearing about his fragility – but as his family, it doesn’t really get easier. We know him and love him; to us he’s just a boy with a full crop of hair and a big heart, who wants nothing more than an airplane ride on his dad’s lap. And good night!, it makes us stop breathing when we see him struggling to get his.

Living with chronic respiratory failure doesn’t come with a clear guide. “There are no right answers,” I’ve heard a thousand times and every time it sounds so off. How can there be no right answers?

But living with Jesus does come with clear answers. He calls us to follow after Him, and in our own cross-bearing He’ll walk with us and deepen our leaning on him.

It’s a hard lesson that I’m slow to learn. One of our pastor’s said recently, “We associate evil with pain, and good with pleasure. But God does not associate things this way.”

It’s a painful process to learn, it involves dying to our flesh and living according to the Spirit. 

When we can’t rescue, we become more fixed on the Rescuer.

When we’re perplexed, we look more to Him who is Wisdom.

When we sorrow, we feel the comfort from the Man of Sorrows.

When we’re anxious, we look to the Prince of Peace.

When we’re overwhelmed, we search for the Rock.

Calvin is sitting peacefully in the PICU now. We are hoping he will continue to make small baby steps of improvements and get back to his baseline. Parainfluenza pushed his already fragile respiratory condition over the edge. If my gut serves me right, we’ll be home in two weeks back at his norm.

Thanks all for your prayers and for reading another of my (overly-reflective) posts when all you really cared about was the last paragraph. 😉 

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