Empathy

I recently had a conversation with a sweet friend that I have not been able to shake. Her child has been through so much touch-and-go with cancer and there were many times they wondered if he’d make it through. Now he has beat cancer and is thriving and doing well. As we were talking, she asked about William and I told her of his passing. Her heart was broken for me and she said something that struck me to the core. She said, “I always feel so guilty when I hear of a child passing because I still get to hold mine.”

I get it. She gets it. As a nurse she sees the many losses. Far too many losses. Sometimes it seems the victories don’t come as much as they should.

But they DO come. And that’s important to remember, too. And to praise the Lord for! Always praising the Lord for each new day with those we love and hold dear. Always remembering it’s a gift and not a promise, a guarantee, or a right.

I remember back when I was getting pregnant every year, it was always hard for me to tell my sisters that I was expecting again. Not because I wasn’t thrilled, but because I didn’t want to cause them additional pain as, for one reason or another, none of them were able to have children at the time. I get how empathizing with others can cause us to feel guilty.

And I appreciate her heart. So, SO much!

I would be lying if I said I never had frustration or anger or doubts or wondered why. There are definitely many times the enemy tries to creep in. And sometimes he succeeds better than others. I constantly have to renew my mind, take my thoughts captive, and remind myself of what I know.

What I know is, God is good. God is kind. God is merciful. God is just.

What I know is, He has a plan for every single person and every tiny moment.

What I know is, His plan cannot be thwarted. I can’t mess it up. I can’t change it. While this doesn’t change my accountability for my own actions, I can rest that His sovereign will will always be done.

What I know is, William’s work on earth was completed. He fulfilled all God gave him to do.

And what I know is, my work is not yet done. No matter how tired or discouraged I get sometimes, I must press on. He’s not finished with me yet.

And mostly what I know is, despite all the pain of losing him, I would do it again a thousand times over, just for the blessing of being his mother. Oh, how I miss my dear boy!