Just before my son’s third birthday, he unfortunately became a cautionary tale to other littles who enjoyed jumping on the couch.
As Jacob was playing with his cousin, he leapt from the sofa and landed in such a way that he broke his elbow. X-rays revealed that the tip of his elbow was literally sheared off, and we soon found ourselves preparing for the first of two surgeries to repair it.
As I anxiously waited during the procedure, I was like a laser-focused momma bear ready to see my child in recovery. The surgeon had warned us that children awake from anesthesia in a variety of ways, yet I was still shocked by what we experienced.
Jacob came to like an agitated bull released from a pin. Confused and belligerent, he screamed and thrashed around. I scooped him in my arms and rocked him in a wooden rocking chair that sat by his hospital bed. Yet, he cried out over and over: “WHERE IS MY MOMMY!?! I WANT MY MOOOMMMYYYY!!!”
The more he screamed, the quieter I tried to whisper and soothe him. “Mommy is right here. I’ve got you. You’re okay. Shhh…Mommy is here.” My heart shattered in that moment as he was inconsolable and fought me until the doctor finally came by and gave him medication to calm him back to sleep. All the while, my arms wrapped securely around my son.
Oh, dear sisters. How often do we do likewise?
We feel crushed by the weight of life’s circumstances and find ourselves shaking our fist, demanding that God show up. All the while, His patient, loving arms are securely wrapped around His daughter, as He gently whispers, “I am right here. I’ve got you. You’re okay. Shhh…I am here.”
Rest in His arms, dear sister. You are safe.
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