Deuteronomy 8:2
"And you shall remember that the Lord your God led you all the way these forty years in the wilderness, to humble you and test you, to know what was in your heart, whether you would keep His commandments or not."

In less than a week my husband and I will be bringing our son back to the hospital for another surgery. Then we will fly home, pack our things, and move away.

I wish so much that I could put into words how it feels to be Timothy's Mommy right now. Instead my thoughts are as disorganized as the half-packed boxes in the garage. I guess it doesn't really matter if I could write everything down; no one could possibly understand what it's like to hold their inconsolable toddler in the PACU unless they have done it.

Sometimes I just gaze at my son's little four-year-old face and ask why he has to endure so much. I wonder how much of his childhood innocence could possibly be left. I think about all he has experienced in so little time. I worry about how suffering will change him. Because, for better or for worse, it will change him. It already has.

My worst fear for him is not that he will never get his trach out, or that he won't be able to eat, or that he will aspirate, or bleed, or be made fun of, or anything temporal. My worst fear is that he will blame God.

Sometimes when we go through hard times, we feel like our expectations have not been met. We are right: they haven't. They can't be, at least not in this life, because we were created for Heaven. If every gray cloud has a silver lining, then likewise even the most silver of clouds will have gray. It's actually for our good that the world is this way; for to be satisfied with this life only would be a tragedy.

I don't know why God chose this little boy to be appointed to trials. I do know that He loves him even more than me, that He is jealous for him and that he belongs to Him. And I know that suffering alongside him makes me long for heaven more than I ever have - not only for myself, but also for him.

I wish I could say that I have it all together, that I have received some deep-seated spiritual insight that has helped me cast off all anxiety, that I have perfect peace about this upcoming surgery and move away from the only home our family has known. I don't. I know what surgery is like and it will be difficult. But I know that God is with us, and that He loves us, and that He will use it for good. To be at peace in the wilderness is not something that can come from me; it must come from Him. Please, God, help me to trust you and give our family strength in these coming days.

Isaiah 55:8-9
"For My thoughts are not your thoughts,
Nor are your ways My ways," says the Lord.
"For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
So are My ways higher than your ways,
And My thoughts than your thoughts."