The Flog – The Fabry Log

It’s time to pull these last 34 days together as we head into our last week of prayer. I wanted to share some of the messages we’ve received in the past few weeks from people who are following in the journey. Take this as part of our uniting together—what Paul talks about in the first few verses of Philippians 2.

Some are from folks who are struggling. Others have met God in a fresh way through these verses. I’m grateful for all of the feedback. But I can’t seem to get this one off my mind. Warning: If you’re a parent, this one is difficult to get through.

“I lost a daughter to meningitis when she was 8 years old. The first night she was hospitalized she was in horrible and excruciating pain, and was not given any pain relievers so they could find out what was wrong. Because it wasn't known if she was contagious, only one person could be in the room with her and could not leave the room. I stayed with her and she cried and banged her head and bloodied her wrists and ankles because she was in restraints. She begged me to take her out of there. There is no way I can describe the anguish I went through or all that she went through. But the next day she 'died,' was resuscitated and kept on life support until she died 6 days later. Since I was the only one allowed with her, I have felt like that suffering was meant for me. I have come to terms with it somewhat, but I don't understand how a child could suffer like that, for what reason. I totally believe in God and the precious blood of Jesus. She did too, when she was sick, she would ask me to pray for her.”

What do you say to a mother who has been through this experience? What do you do to alleviate the pain? The memories? The anguish. Only that mother knows what truly went on in that room. That mother, her daughter, and God himself.

I think he was there. He didn’t rescue them in that time, but he walked through that with them. Sounds a little trite to say it that way, and it would be, if not for the cross. If not for the submission that Jesus went through to reconcile us and glorify God.

I don’t pretend to have any answers for this mother who lives with this pain. Somehow, I don’t think she needs answers. She needs us. She needs others who will enter into that pain and take a little of it from her shoulders.

Would you pray for this mom today?

And think of those you may meet today who seem hardened or bitter or angry. Whose bedside have they come from? What hurts in the past have they experienced that made them the way they are?

Pray for them, too.