Waiting

Here I sit, early on Wednesday, waiting for a hectic day to begin. This morning Jana will take Joshua and Andi to the clinic to do follow-up blood work to check on Joshua's liver enzymes. Andi has been running a fever, so I will meet them at the hospital so that we don't take a sick kid (Andi) up to the clinic. Hopefully, prayerfully, Joshua's liver enzymes will have dropped and we will continue without incident with his treatments.

I don't know why my night was filled with restlessness or why I'm so nervous this morning, but I am. Jana has a much better approach to this stuff - she seems to be better than me at trusting, praying, and hoping in general. Not that she's fake about it in anyway; it's very real. Me, I brood.

But what's really amazing is that Joshua doesn't give it a second thought either. Last night as we were going to bed, Joshua said, "Daddy, I'm very lucky to go to the clinic tomorrow and the hospital." And he really thinks that. It's not because he has the ability to process that he's lucky we live in a city with a children's hospital, or that he's lucky we have such good doctors, or that he's lucky he was an early responder to chemotherapy. In his mind, he's lucky because he gets to watch a video, play with toys, and drink grape juice.

I still remember the day he was diagnoses. I did not feel lucky. I sat in a room with our peditrician and he told me Joshua had leukemia. Joshua sat on the floor and played with trucks. And now I think there is a huge burden with knowledge. I knew things my child didn't know. And I can't help but wonder if God is burdened with knowledge.

I use the word "burdened" becuase my language fails me here. It's not the right word, but it's the best one I have. Not that God wrings His hands in frustration, or sits up late nights thinking about the uncertain future. But it does seem to me that the Lord must carry, in some mysterious way, the burdens of His children. People all over the world casting their burdens on Him, because He cares for them. People hurting everywhere, and all turning to Him for help. It must be very heavy.

In His infinite wisdom, God will choose rightly. But in my darker moments, I can't help but think: What if I don't like or agree with God's decision, even though at some level I recognize its rightness?

That's something to struggle through. Something to wrestle with. Something that I think all of us wrestle with, because at some level, we all have the moment where we wake up and realize that God's plan for our lives is different than the one we had formulated.

I think the comfort doesn't come in the confidence that God is always going to agree with me. He's not; and He shouldn't. I think and hope in the end, I'm grateful God didn't agree with my plans, especially when I see the goodness in His own. But in the moment, that's not very comforting. I think what is comforting, however, is knowing that God knows what it's like to carry a burden. He knows better than me. So maybe there is some sort of kinship we have with God when we choose, or are forced to, carry the burden of another.

I'm doing my best today to trust a Jesus who carries heavy burdens, a Jesus with broad shoulders, a Jesus who knows pain that I never will. He knows the feelilng.