Urgent Caring

On the heels of my life getting super-sidetracked last week, I found myself yesterday face-to-face with one of my most dreaded foes: Urgent Care.  Oh, sickness, why?  Why must you always raise your ugly head on Friday afternoon or Saturday night, or (worst of all) Sunday morning?

Short story: runny nose escalating to fever, leads me to seek advice from our after-hours phone nurse.  Her assessment: he needs to be seen.  On a Sunday.  And they can't see him at their office.  So off we go to Hell on Earth Urgent Care.  Hey, I don't want to give the impression that I don't appreciate the people there.  They are keeping me out of the ER, and that's great.  But one poor doctor for all us sickies means a cranky waiting room and waaaay too many episodes of iCarly for a 3-year-old.  My child was watching that craziness in a weepy daze and all he kept saying was, "that wasn't very nice," every time somebody got shoved (at least every minute or so).  I have taught you well, young Skywalker.

Two and a half hours later we left with the diagnosis that "its probably something viral."  Again, I'm glad to know he doesn't have an ear infection, but seriously!?!  2.5 miserable hours and a hefty co-pay to tell me that!  I was exhausted beyond belief, frustrated, and feeling helpless.

And then...something happened.  The child came home and took a long nap, and when he woke up he was his old self.  If he had a fever it was tiny.  No headache.  No tears.  No lethargy. Not even a runny nose.  And as he went out for a walk with Daddy I thought back over our morning--the worry, the craziness, the calling of doctors.  The iCarly.  And I remembered the prayer that his Daddy and I prayed over him at the height of his fever:

"Isaiah tells us that 'Your light shall break forth like the morning, your healing shall spring forth, speedily, and your righteousness shall go before you; the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard.' (Isaiah 58:8).  Lord, be with our Biggest, and fight for him against this sickness. Heal him, Lord."  Am I surprised that our prayer was answered?  I confess--a little.  Because not every prayer is answered right when I want it to be.  But this one was, and what a blessing to be reminded of God's power in this and all things.  

Oh, and one other thing I wanted to say.  I really, really hate it when my boys get sick.  But there is this tiny silver lining: I am reminded at times like this how desperately, how urgently, I care for them. A mother's love is such a fierce love.  Such a powerful, protective love.  I'd do anything for my boys, go to the ends of the Earth for them.  But when I am not enough, I can pray to a God who is.  I was reminded of that yesterday.  And I just wanted to share it with you.