I sit in the big comfy overstuffed chair with my feet propped up on the ottoman. It’s 6:42 a.m., and I’ve been up since 4. So I am ready for a nap. But sleep doesn’t come. I watch her sleep away the nausea. Wondering what the day will bring. Strangely, I’m not afraid. God’s peace prevails even as I think through her last four bouts with throwing up. Each one starting with “my tummy hurts” and me breaking into an instant cold sweat. Each one ending with a trip to the hospital that lasted anywhere from two hours to three days.
Then came the questions.
“Why, God? Why won’t you protect her from this stuff? Why does she have to throw up so much? She loves you so much, God, in her sweet little 6-year-old way. So why?”
And each time, He’s shown me something new about Himself and His plan. But, each time, I have begged Him to spare her the I.V. needle that she so horridly dreads. And, in all honesty, I wonder why He must use such suffering to teach such things. I think I will never know this side of eternity. So the questions remain.
But, somehow, right now there is peace. And I am learning that right-now-peace is enough peace.