A Hospital for the Heart

As life happens all around us, we’re faced with tough situations and painful experiences. I speak for myself when I say that it’s all too easy allowing the hurt and pain to bring me down. Indeed, I think we could all agree that we’ve had our share of heart ache, but I find that each day, as I draw nearer to the heart of God, I see Him in day to day events all around me. Let me explain what I mean:

A few weeks ago my sister in law had the opportunity to join my brother, Daniel, on one of his missionary crusades to Africa. While they were out of the country, the family and I took care of the kids. They had been with us for a few days when we realized that London, who recently turned one year old, was very sick and his condition was getting steadily worse. He needed to be taken to the emergency room.

After packing up the car, my mom and I drove him to the hospital where they told us that he would need to stay overnight for observation. We proceeded to spend the next three days in the hospital. My heart broke each time a nurse walked in the room and began to poke and prod at my little nephew. I could see the confusion in London’s eyes and crocodile tears would pour down his face as he sat there looking at me helplessly. I wanted so badly for him to know that it was going to be alright and we were trying to make him better, but all he could understand was the pain he felt.

It was then that I began to think of the age old question that people are famous for asking:

Why would a loving God let this happen?

My heart ached within me as I stared into the eyes of this little boy that I loved so much. Every time the nurses began some new procedure, tears would fill his eyes as he searched me desperately for some explanation. Surely he couldn’t think that I would be doing this to hurt him. How could I ever find joy in his pain? No, this pain was actually part of a healing process that he needed to go through. Still, I couldn’t help but cringe at the thought of London directing such a question toward me: “Why would she let this happen to me?”

True, I couldn’t explain to him what was going on, because he wouldn’t understand. But there was one thing London could always count on—I would not leave his side. Whenever the nurses would enter the room, he would instantly fix his eyes on either my mom or I. It didn’t make the pain go away, but it comforted him to know that we weren’t going anywhere.

Humans have such a need for immediate answers. Think about it—when someone dies, we immediately want to know why–how did it happen?  By nature we question things and strive for a sense of closure and understanding and so this is the question I propose: Is it possible that sometimes we don’t need to understand everything? Even as I say this, it’s hard for me to accept, because there are times that I desperately want concrete answers; my life mapped out before me, the reason why I’m hurting, and the list goes on.

This is the point I’m trying to make—it wasn’t important that London understand why he was going through this pain in his life. The important thing was that he keep his eyes on the one that loved him and trust that I wouldn’t leave. It’s called faith.

Indeed, he was still going to feel the occasional poking and prodding, but in the midst of the hurt there was healing. And you better believe I was right there with him every step of the way, ready to scoop him up and hold him in my arms when it was over.

Life can hurt. It can wear you down and show no mercy. You may not understand what is going on, but the moments that seem the darkest may be when God is fighting hardest for you. As long as you keep your eyes focused on Him, He’ll be your comfort. And He’s positively, without a doubt, right there waiting to hold you in His arms and tell you that everything’s going to be alright.

Advertisement