When my son was born, until the age of almost three, he had constant ear infections. After the third or fourth time, it became easier to identify that another was coming on and I could get him to the doctor before it became too painful. Most of the time.
I do recall one experience of having that motherly instinct of knowing he was getting another and taking me in. His regular doctor was out and another doctor saw him. He assured me after checking him briefly that there was no cause for worry. I wanted to assure him that I was most certain he was wrong.
At twelve o’clock that night, my son woke up screaming, his ear filled with pain. I did everything I could to help him. I gave him Tylenol. I held him. I rocked him. I cried with him. He screamed in pain until morning.
A few weeks ago, I had an ear infection. It began with a gradual achiness followed by intense pain and pressure for about five days, at which time I felt it was going to burst and to be quite honest, I almost wanted it to just to relieve the pain and the pressure.
No one ever gave me Tylenol. No one held or rocked me or saw me crying in the dark when I could not sleep because the pain was so intense, but then, they did not know because I was not crying out in agony.
This is what I learned…
When my son, at the age of two, was in pain, he writhed in discomfort and screamed for release from the grip of his ear infection. Oh how I wanted to comfort him and hold him tight so that he knew he was not alone. I rocked him to try to soothe him and as I held him closely, I cried with him, wanting badly to be able to take his pain away.
When I was in pain a few weeks ago, for the most part, I kept it inside. No one else needed to hear how much it really hurt. No one could rock me and comfort me and it made me think… Isn’t that what God wants us to do with him? Yet, we try to keep the pain in our lives and the heartache we experience hidden deep inside, when all the while He is waiting for us to cry out to Him for help.
I was chatting online last night with a friend and he was saying that one of his friends was not going to be able to do an event that they had planned for this year. He said the other person had been having some recent struggles and had to cancel. Then he withdrew and ‘disappeared’ (not literally) from his network of friends. My friend made a comment that went something like this: “I’ve told him there’s still a spot for him on the team, but he’s got to walk through the door.”
I liked that. We sit and cry but we do not run through the door screaming to God for relief. We do not writhe in pain when it hurts so bad inside that we think we cannot tolerate it for another minute. A foreclosure on the only home you have known. A divorce. An illness. The loss of a loved one. You lose your job. The list goes on.
When a child cries out in pain, the parent responds immediately. When he whimpers and sits off to the side, if the parent does notice, s/he probably knows it is not a life-threatening issue or the child would be screaming as loud as he was able. The child that is crying out for mercy gets mommy or daddy by their side – immediately.
I am not saying that if we talk to God politely, He is going to ignore us, but there is something to be said about crying out to Him. Sometimes that is the only thing we can do. Sometimes that is the best thing to do. To become like a child and let Him hold you and rock you. Let Him soothe you and wipe the tears as He wraps you safely in His arms.
He is waiting to love you. It is up to you to walk through the door.
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