At Bronson’s two-month check-up, I stood next to him, holding his hand, while the nurse jabbed him with needles – two times in his left leg and once in his right. And right before his face turned bright red and he let out an adamant wail, he looked at me. Those sweet, blue eyes looked at me, and I know beyond any doubt that he was thinking:
How could you just stand there and let her do this to me mom?
He actually calmed down fairly easily and proved to be a very tough little boy, but in that moment, I really wished he didn’t need vaccines.
As we both tried to recover the rest of the day, I kept thinking that I often feel the exact same way – not about my mom, but about God. I wonder what in the world he is doing – just standing there letting me get jabbed with needles. How could that be love?
But it was with Bronson. I would do anything to stop someone from hurting him, but the nurse wasn’t just hurting him. She was helping him. So, not in spite of my love, but because of it, I held his hand and let him get hurt.
So when God is letting me get hurt, seemingly doing nothing to stop it, I’m going to think about inoculations and remember that it is possible – not just possible, but actually true – that this is still love.