Tip of My Iceberg

No one likes to think of themselves as a phony.

I’ve always considered myself as pretty straight forward and genuine.

That all unraveled on Saturday when we heard that our newest grandson, Landry, less than a week old, was back in the hospital.

He’d begun to run a fever at home, and it got high enough that Mark and Jillian took him in. He wasn’t quite four days old then, and their concern was justified.

He stopped breathing four times. His fever couldn’t be brought down. They had to insert a feeding tube into his tiny body.

Something in me went blank. Whatever the reasons, I couldn’t get past my fears for my grandson. Praying felt futile.

And I thought, “Dayle, you’ve got to be the greatest fake in the world.”

I’m one that encourages others when they’re disappointed or afraid. When life feels dark, without hope. I’m one that reminds others of the power of the God who loves us and never leaves us. Who sovereignly walks us through all the peaks and valleys of our stories. I’ve prayed for others when they’re feeling despair and fear.

I couldn’t do it for myself. The fear felt all encompassing.

I felt embarrassed by my faithlessness. By my inability to give all this over to God. To trust Him with this, like I’ve been able to do in the past.

These fears felt like they were stuck on me with super glue. No matter how I tried to pray and give the burden of my fears to God, they were right there with me.

I went from feeling like a fake to a failure. All the things I’ve told people over the years, I couldn’t seem to believe for myself. For my grandson. For his parents.

I talked to God about all of this. Cried a lot. Felt little relief.

I whined to a dear friend about my lack of faith. That I knew the words to say but it didn’t seem to matter.

She reminded me that faith isn’t a feeling. That I was hurting a great deal for my kids and grandson. That my faith in Jesus was really there. It was blanketed by worry.

She gave me permission to hurt. When I felt responsible to be strong.

I’ve had a little time to think on what she’s said. And what God has said. About who He is and how He has been faithful, time and again. How He’s never abandoned me. Never abandoned anyone who is His.

I was in the middle of hurt and couldn’t step back enough to be objective. To remember how I’ve seen Jesus show up in my life. To hear His words of comfort: “I will be with you to the end of the age.”

It’s a hard thing to have my faith hit a brick wall.

It’s amazing to have God lead me to the place where He’s removed the bricks. To walk with those who walk with me when all I see is dark.

And Landry?

The faith of many has held him before Jesus.

He’s getting better.