December 1, 2003
Last night was supposed to have been one of relaxation, and family togetherness for us after a long day of ministry. We managed the family togetherness part just fine. Unfortunately, that time was spent by the three of us in the ER at Lakeland Regional Hospital.
It happened like this. We arrived home from our meeting in Brooksville too late to go to the evening service at Fellowship Baptist. I flopped on the couch to watch some TV, and then thought better of it when I saw my son Mikey playing around on the floor. I decided that the better investment of my time would be to get on the floor with him and engage in a father-son wrestling match. After all, it will not be long before I am no longer able to win those!
We put a matress on the floor, and began taking turns diving onto it. It was great fun. At one point I landed on the matress, and stayed there, waiting for him to jump on top of me. Instead of jumping on top of me, he jumped to the side...and right into our entertainment center.
Mikey hit the corner of the entertainment center (actually a glorified table with wheels) with his forehead. The resultant gash began bleeding profusely. His mother scooped him into her arms and ran to the sink. I already knew we were in for a trip to the hospital, so I ran to the bedroom to get my shoes. I am sure that our neighbors, ignorant of the situation, looked upon our rubber-laying exit from our driveway with not a little disapproval.
By the time we arrived at the hospital, Mikey and Mommy had both calmed down. We signed him in, and then waited to be called in to see the doctor. And waited. And waited some more.
It was four hours later when our name was finally called. Mikey had long forgotten that he was hurt. I had watched the Bucs all but eliminate themselves from getting to the playoffs. Mommy was asleep on one of the benches.
After we got to the room, there were forms to fill out, and then more waiting. Michael was asleep by the time the doctor came in to put the stitches in. This worked to our advantage, as it was easier to put him in his "straight jacket" this way. He woke up, though, when the stitching started.
It was a heart-rending sight to see him there, all covered except for his face. His eyes looked wildley about him, trying desperately to see what was going on. First he cried for Mommy, then for Daddy. The nurse who was holding his head, in an attempt to calm him down, told him the pretty soon they would be "all done". Mikey latched on to those words and began to cry out "All done!All done!" in a most pitiful way.
There was no way for me to explain to him the reasoning behind the pain he was going through, or why he had to be completely motionless. All I could do was stand there and talk to him softly, and tell him everything was going to be alright. Whenever I would make eye-contact with him, the look he gave me was one of utter betrayal.
We arrived back home at 4 am. Mike was sleeping soundly. A popsicle immediately following the procedure had gone a long way to making everything right. I began to reflect on what had just transpired.
When we find ourselves in difficult or painful circumstances, our knee-jerk reaction is to try to get out of them. We so often lose sight of the fact that an all-knowing, all-powerful, all-loving God has a purpose that is beyond our human comprehension (Isaiah 55:8), but for our good (Romans 8:28). It is so easy to feel that God has betrayed us, as my son certainly thought he had been betrayed by his parents.
God has not betrayed us, nor has He somehow lost track of us (Psalm 121). It is our perspective that is limited, not His.
Posted by Andrew on December 1, 2003 7:28 PM.
Posted by: Deb at December 1, 2003 11:25 PM
Posted by: Shanna at December 2, 2003 10:02 AM