When my dad was really sick a few years before we actually lost him he was at UT for several days - 22 to be exact. I remember he was so pitiful laying there so sick and I felt so helpless. I went out into the hallway to do the only thing that I knew to do that could help...pray. I stood in a corner and I prayed so hard that I wept. I asked...no i begged God to take my Dad's cancer and to give it to me. I told Him I was stronger and that even more so I deserved to have it more than my dad did. I was unaware that my Aunt Chris was standing behind me listening to my pleas to heal my father and let it be me that was suffering. Aunt Chris waited until I was finished and she took my hand and told me "this is not your battle to fight - it's your father's. I don't understand it, he doesn't deserve it but God has chosen this battle for him and the battle He has chosen for you is watch him go through this and to simply be there for him." Several months later I had a mammogram. They found lumps in my left breast and said that I would have to come back for a biopsy. I remember thinking instantly that God had answered my prayers and that He had taken my dad's cancer and given it to me. I wasn't angry. I wasn't bitter. I wasn't even scared. I was at peace with knowing that the Father knew that I could handle this or otherwise I wouldn't have been given the opportunity to trade places with my dad. This had coincided with the time that my dad had went into remission and I was certain that I KNEW God's plan. The biopsy results came back negative. WHAT?? I didn't understand. The more I talked to God the more I began to hear my Aunt Chris' words - "this is not your battle." In time my dad's cancer came back. He got worse. He got better. He got worse. In the end he passed away. It wasn't from the cancer - but ultimately because of the cancer he was too weak to overcome the flu and pneumonia. After Dad died I had this overwhelming amount of strength for my Mom and my family to help them get through the most horrible time of our lives. I know now that was because of the battle that God had chosen for me all along and that was witnessing my dad go through what he did and during that time becoming stronger as not only a daughter but a person. I should have prayed for my dad to have the strength to overcome HIS battle.
This weekend my son had his own battle - a wounded heart. Now trust me I know that this in no way, shape or form compares to the battle that my dad faced but yet it was a battle for him. Now those of you that have children know that there is NOTHING worse than seeing your child suffer - either from sickness or from simply a broken heart. Once again, I went to the Father. I asked of Him to take the pain that my son was feeling and give it to me. I had experienced my fair share of broken hearts and heartache as the result of a relationship and I knew that the pain that he was feeling would go away - but he didn't know that. In what almost seemed like minutes my heart felt like it was literally going to explode with pain. I just knew that God had taken away his heartache and given it to me. But He hadn't. Instead He had given me a reminder of how a broken heart can feel and with that He gave me the compassion that I needed to help my son cope with the pain that he felt.
When I talked to Eli I did what I always try to do when helping my children with a burden or a hurt - I told him to pray. To ask God to make things better. His reply to me? "Mom I can't ask God to give me what would make me happy knowing that it would make someone I care about unhappy." It was like my child teaching me instead of me being the teacher. He showed me what I should have known all along. That in our prayers we have to think about what we are asking for and realize that sometimes what it is that we need is not just an answer but rather we just need understanding and then we can find our own answers.
