The sun set behind tall city buildings, its warm glow lit the hospital room.
The crib, surrounded by multiple IV pumps and the ventilator, held my seven-month-old baby girl in a paralyzed sleep.
Never had I imagined being here.
A simple runny nose morphed into double pneumonia at warp speed. One day she was stuffy, the next lethargic and breathing quickly. At the ER, they rushed her onto the monitor, then for urgent tests and x-rays. Within the hour, we found ourselves in the back of an ambulance alongside a doctor and nurse, lights and sirens, on our way to the children’s hospital.
I’d sat in the back of that ambulance many times before as an ER nurse, using the same equipment, caring for my patients, but nothing prepares you for when that patient is your child.
Admitted to the ICU, she continued to deteriorate, no longer able to supply enough oxygen to her little body, placing her on a ventilator. Then, in the days that followed, her medical team prepared us for the worst.
There are so many moments we are unprepared for, but illness and suffering arrive unannounced and, if we’re honest, unwelcome. We’re flooded with worry and fear; uncertainty muddling each step we take. We cry out to God with every fiber of our being, facing the reality we are not in control, and living in the risky place of learning to trust.
How do we reconcile the ache in our heart with what we believe?
We cling to truth.
...[Read the rest of the article at Momma Theologians!]