Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
Matthew 5:4
I wept in church today.
Tears of sadness.
Sorrow.
Reflection.
The reality of Samuel's life is hitting me
washing over my heart in huge waves.
And right now, it hurts.
I see him struggling lately.
He must have got gluten somewhere.
His body rebelling over food.
Unable to absorb nutrients well.
Attacking itself.
I just want him to be well.
And another part wants him to eat what everyone else eats.
Birthday cakes, out to eat, wheat bread.
And he can't.
Not now.
Not ever.
My heart mourns.
My friend, Amy, told me it was like running a
marathon.
Not a sprint.
Somehow the length escaped me.
The perseverance.
The determination.
The life commitment.
We've had a good month of Samuel feeling well.
It was inevitable that there'd be down times.
I had no idea how scared I'd get when they happened.
I see him weaker right now.
I see him tired.
Struggling a bit more.
I just want to fix him.
Completely.
Then I feel selfish.
He's alive.
Celiac Disease is manageable.
What right do I have to complain?
To mourn?
And yet, I mourn.
Somehow, in mourning, there is healing
for my heart.
There is a release.
A realization of just how blessed I am.
Of the love of God.
And my heart cries out
Blessed be the name of the Lord.
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's 'all it should be'
Blessed be your name.
Blessed be your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be your name.
Blessed be the name of the Lord.
