With my head in my hands, tears flowing freely, I’ve reached the point of complete exhaustion. This year has taken its toll, with Juneldè losing weight, becoming more spastic, not sleeping, moaning, crying, upset on a daily basis. I want to run away; flee from this helpless feeling. My hands are tied and I don’t know how to help her anymore. Everywhere I turn is a rock and a hard place with my child the victim. My hope lies shriveled up in the debris of her suffering. My faith is silenced amidst the weakness of my motherly love. I am failing her, and I just don’t have the strength to fight this fight.
Two weeks ago I have cried this out in desperation for answers I didn’t even know the questions to anymore. And now I can humbly, thankfully reflect on the quick turnaround that God has provided in spite of my dusty fallable humanness.
He sends the right people at the right time…He provides us with resources abound and in the bigger picture I now stand in awe of His perfect timing.
Only through Him is it possible for change to be so intensely visible. For time to become irrelevant in the context of His healing.
Head lifted high, with tears of gratitude flowing freely I stand humbled and thankful. Juneldè’s dad asks her during computer communication time if she knows how much he loves her, and with accurate speed comes the quick reply YES.
And in turn I quietly wonder if I would ever truly know just how much He loves me?