Sunday, February 24, 2008

It must be the time of year.

The other day, as we were driving back from Peoria, Jim and I both had such a strong reaction to driving by St. Francis. The sky looks the same, the weather is similar, and it just feels so familiar. It feels like we should still be in the NICU.

I've been feeling a lot of . . .well, I suppose that anger is the right word. Lately, I have heard so many people talking about the miracles God has performed, how He saved their loved ones from the brink of death, how He protected them and wouldn't let them fall. I don't begrudge these people their miracles. I really don't. I am very happy when people's health is restored, or they are saved from a tragic accident, or whatever the case might be. It's just that I wish I could have had my miracle too.

Yes, my sons were both miracles. But if it's a question of prayer, which people claim it is whenever things go their way, then Sawyer was prayed for as much as anyone else has ever been. Why didn't God save him?? Why wasn't he pulled back from the brink of death? He was a baby, pure, simple, a clean slate, who never had a chance to live. Why not perform a miracle on him? And if God saves people based on the prayers offered, which people tell me He does, then does he allow someone to die if no one says a prayer? What if only one person prays, or two? How many is enough?

I had to deliver one son knowing that no such miracle could be. There was nothing the doctors could do. I had to accept that, even though I still prayed and prayed and prayed and prayed that God would save him. I asked God to let him live even if it meant that I would die, and I really meant it. I would have given my life for both of my sons.

So after that tragedy, which feels like a nightmare that I am only now waking from, I am given another son, another chance, and still . . .he was taken from me. People always say that God has a plan, that the days of our lives are numbered . . .yet when someone survives a potentially fatal accident, they say that God saved him. How does God decide who to save? Why wasn't my son one of the chosen ones?

I'll never understand any of it. All I know is that my heart is still aching every day, but added to it is this raw anger. The more I hear of other people's miracles, the more angry I become. I know jealousy is wrong, but how could I not be jealous? They got their miracle. Why didn't my son get his?

1 comment:

mary ann said...

Yes, I understand what you are saying...I have the same feelings...not really anger, I think, but lots of wondering, longing,yearning. Still part of greiving. God is God and I am not, which is an answer in some ways, but also reason that I wonder, yearn, long. 'Rejoice with those who rejoice, mourn with those who mourn.' We will have things to rejoice about in life, BUT we will always be those who mourn.