Sunday Ponderings

I decided to add a post today because I'm at home instead of at church. Addison has been sick with tonsillitis the last day and a half, so here we are. At home. At midnight last night, her temp spiked up to 103.6. We got her up, gave her Tylenol and Motrin, waited for her to cool down and then put her back to bed. It's one of those things that makes me a little uneasy.

I used to not really be that "paranoid" about fever until almost precisely one year ago today. I was sitting in a little one room apartment where we were living in the transition phase of our move between houses. I was sitting in my rocking chair holding her because she was not feeling well. She had been sick the day before, whining and just acting like she didn't feel good and then began running fevers in the night. Then they continued throughout the day. All I had at home was Tylenol - I was out of Motrin. For myself, Tylenol is not my favorite medicine to drop a fever. So, I had already called Jeremy and told him to make sure he brought some home. As I sat in the chair holding her I could almost feel her heat up like an oven. It was very quick and I thought to myself, "this is not going to be good." It was less than 5 minutes later I stood in the apartment alone holding a seizing baby with no ability to do anything to stop it or control it. I called the ambulance to come get us to take us to the hospital while I stood there holding her. The seizure itself lasted about 5 minutes. I was like a duck....calm on top and swimming like crazy underneath. Man, my insides were about to pound out of me. It seemed to go on forever!! Right before the ambulance showed up, she had quit, so they allowed me to strap her into her carseat and drive her myself. I drove in horrible traffic to the hospital with a "post-ictal" child. That's the phase after a seizure where there is no communication. Just blank stares and drooling. I remember the last light before the emergency room, she turned her head slightly and looked up at me in the rear-view mirror. You have no idea how that was such a relief to my weary mind.

Turns out it was just viral and would have to run its course and the seizure was caused by the rapid rate in which her temperature increased. It was really uncontrollable. Since that time, I have really been over cautious with fevers.

I wrote all that to lead me to what is the subject of my pondering today. Over the past few months, I've been really mulling over a particular scripture...I even shared it with my Sunday school class well over a month ago. You know, I've been thinking about the case of nerves that I had the day I've just written about and then the scripture that I've been mulling over and I cannot imagine the plight of the character of which the scripture refers.

The scripture reference itself is in Mark 9. It's the story of a father who brings his son to Jesus to heal him. His first complaint is that he has a spirit that won't allow him to talk. He's mute. The second complaint in today's terminology would have been the same symptoms similar to that of a seizure - except they were caused by a spirit. His father says the spirit that causes the convulsions causes him to be thrown into the fire and into the water...all with the intent to destroy him. I cannot imagine the father's emotions upon this encounter. It is documented that he has tears and that he begs Christ for compassion on them. I do not know what's it's like to have to deal with this day after day...but the feeling of helplessness that comes with such a problem was absolutely overwhelming.

I feel like I've come to Christ on more than one occasion in that position. Absolutely helpless. Broken. The feeling that the hopelessness in the situation might never end. See, when this man asked Christ for compassion on his son, he had already been witness to other miracles. He knew Christ was capable, just not sure he was willing. At least that's my interpretation of the scripture. See, Christ told him if he could believe in it, it was possible.....in other words, "If you believe your son can be healed, it's possible." This is where the problem was with the father and where the problem comes with us as humans. I've seen my share of miracles, just as this father had. Yet, when Christ told him if he believed, it could happen....yet the father's response was a contrite spirit saying, "down deep I believe, but my human tendency is to doubt. Please remove that. Please help me with this downfall."

I think more than one of us have been here multiple times in our lives. We believe it's possible, but doubt has a tendency to creep in and cloud our faith. I have situations I've prayed about and it seemed like I had the faith of a child....yet, somewhere in the mix, doubts began. I've had to pray more than once for God to help my unbelief.

My prayer today is, whatever the situation...."I believe, Help thou mine unbelief - Remove the option of unbelief from my thoughts and may I know that I'm completely safe in the hands of a very capable Christ."

I have a feeling on the way home that day that he became a father who was thankful he had been MAN enough to approach his only chance for healing and had been willing to admit he needed help. A broken and contrite spirit, God will not despise.

Just a few thoughts for today.