The Flu

My 6 year old has the flu. He played one heck of a basketball game on Saturday and spiked a temperature a few hours later. I only caught it because I made him hug me. A momma knows her baby's temperature. My boy was hot.  So, no Lentspiration for me the past few days.  I felt guilty, then I recalled my previous post about failing Lent. Our lesson at church this past Sunday was of the same sentiment.  I wish I could remember the closing because it spoke to me, however, the link isn't up yet and my memory isn't what it used to be.

While I was distracted by my son's flu and also stressing about my daughter's first speech therapy visit, there was what I consider to be a tragedy in my small town. Last year, a little girl in Athens, Kajal Patel, inspired a community wide marrow drive to find a bone marrow treatment to cure an immune disorder she had.  In April 2012, a match was found. However, in the months proceeding the discovery, Kajal was in too bad of health to undergo the transfer.  I heard just yesterday, that the donor backed out, and her brother, who was not a perfect match (and I believe is only 10 years old) became her donor.  Monday night, I found out that Kajal passed. I cried as my husband held me and I felt pain for her and her parents, the life she missed out on, and her friends- not even teenagers yet- having to cope with this kind of loss.

I am sad and sickened. Sad that any parent has to undergo the loss of a child, especially one so young. Sad that the perfect donor match backed out and her little brother had to step up. What if the perfect match made all of the difference? I am sickened that children have to die.  I feel overwhelmed with grief by this coupled with the Sandy Hook tragedy.  With both, I have gotten angry with God. My Sunday School teacher /Associate Pastor says that lamenting is okay, even if it feels wrong. In her sermon Sunday (I remember this part!) she pointed out that there are 150 Pslams and that 65-67 are lament psalms.

I don't like being angry with God. I feel guilty about it. But there is no hiding what you feel from the one who knows your thoughts. At least my anger comes from a place of honesty. At least God knows it is brought on by compassion for one or many of his children.  At least I am a believer who will get over the hurt and realize that God knows more than we do. To quote from Joy in this Journey, "We have lost the language in lament in today's church, partially because we have come to believe that a belief in sovereignty makes it wrong to complain to God." Additionally, I love Joy's quote from Dr. Christopher Wright, "You have to pour out your true feelings before God, feelings that include anger, disbelief, incomprehension, and the sheet pain of too many contractions. Only then can I come back to praise God with integrity. Praise does not eliminate or override all such emotions. Rather, it is the safe framework of total acknowledgment of God and utter dependence on him within which they can be given their full expression. "

I lament today as I look at my own children. I know how lucky I am to have them: flu and a hearing loss are nothing compared to the death of a child. I am angry for those who cannot hold their children today. I truly believe it is okay. God knows I still love him.  Today's Lenten lesson for me is to be more honest with God. To not try to push down feelings for fear he will strike back at me, he knows my heart and it isn't rebellious, it is just sad.