It's the call every parent dreads, yet almost every parent gets it at least once.
The school is calling, and the nurse says in her sweetest, calmest voice, "We don't want you to worry, but there was an incident at school and your child was hurt..."
Whatever else she says is a blur, as your mind races, formulating a plan on how to drop everything and be at the school as quickly as possible. You're not yet in a panic, but you can feel your heart beating faster as you head out the door. Your only priority is to get to your child.
"It's okay, honey. Mommy is on the way..." you say out loud in the car, as if you believe you really can communicate telepathically to your child.
When you arrive, you fly past the receptionist into the nurse's office, making a bee line to your child. Her tears fall on your shoulder as you pick her up and hold her tight.
You look her over and brush the wisp of hair out of her eyes. She looks more scared than injured.
"Are you all right? Don't worry, it's going to be okay," you assure her.
Hearing those words, she gives a little nod. Yes, mommy is here. Everything is better now.
When we are hurting, the first thing we want is comfort. Someone to say, "It's going to be okay." In today's world, though, that kind of reassurance can be hard to find. There are many places to learn more about what's wrong with us, but few to offer us hope that things will be all right.
As children, our parents fill that role. And as parents, we do the same for our kids. But where do we as adults go for comfort and healing? Even the best doctors can't heal the heart. They can treat our bodies, but not our souls. And when the pain is chronic, we need an even heavier dose of hope.
By the time I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis (RA) in 2014, I had already been through enough trials in my life to know my source of hope. I had learned to depend on God through tough times and to be grateful for every good day that came my way. Nevertheless, hearing the news that I had a progressive, incurable illness that would inflict daily pain and potentially render me disabled was scary. I only knew one person with the disease and I knew she had gone through some pretty tough times in dealing with it. I began asking myself questions like "Why me?" and "Why now?" and sought answers via Scripture and prayer.
My questions and answers, as I have walked this journey with RA, have become Spring Sight blog. It is a place where I share my struggles with others who are hurting, so they know they are not alone in their pain. And yet, it is more than a place to commiserate. It is a place to celebrate the gifts God gives me every day, especially His peace and joy that can transcend every trial.
After 25 years of writing about business and technology, Spring Sight gives me an opportunity to write from the heart for those who are hurting. It is a place where I can share what God is doing in my life, so that others may find comfort in His arms as well.
If you or someone you know are hurting, and would be encouraged by reading my experiences, I invite you to join me at SpringSight.net. If you are an editor of a publication looking for inspirational articles related to healthcare and Christianity, I would also welcome an opportunity to write for you.
Have a blessed day!