Justin did not bounce back quickly from the spinal tap and chemo infusion as he has before. He is suffering stomach pain, headache and vomiting.
I held the bucket under his chin and relived the horror of those first few months of chemotherapy. I held him as he cried himself to sleep. It wasn’t until I felt the even rise and fall of his tiny chest that I let my own tears spill.
How long, Lord? How long will my child suffer?
Justin awoke writhing in stomach pain. The on-call oncologist says he will need to come in to the hospital if pain continues.
Again, he is asleep and I am at his side. Attentive. Ready for battle. Out of need for due diligence, a vigilant mind momentarily eclipses an anguished soul.
Turn to me and be gracious to me,
for I am lonely and afflicted. Relieve the troubles of my heart
and free me from my anguish. Psalm 25: 16-17
Please, God, turn to me. Afflict me all day long but, please, no longer my son.