I have been following a story on a blog of a mothers moment of distraction turned into a dreaded reality. Her son drowned in the bath tub. But due to quick action (a slightly older brother trying to pull him out of the bath tub, mom knowing CPR, and oldest brother (6) calling 911), he was able to be revived. He was flown to a great hospital in their area, and has been given many miraculous treatments. He is recovering, and quickly. He is becoming himself again.
Mom posted a video of son enjoying family singing one of his favorite songs while he was in the hospital (still not out of the woods, but doing oh so much better), and I started sobbing. Some of the tears were of joy, yes. I have been praying hard for this little boy and his family.
But a LOT of the tears were of sadness, anger, and jealousy. I hate to admit that I am human, and keep asking "Why?". Why couldn't this be our story to. Why couldn't we be posting this miraculous type of story on our blog to the joy of all our family and friends? Why cant we be in our old house wondering how the .... we will manage to pay the medical bills, instead of still thanking everyone so much in all the help they gave us arranging and paying for things funeral and otherwise related. Why did I have to write the thank you cards for everything every one did to help out during that week, instead of thank you cards for prayers, and bringing us clean clothes and returning library books while we sat at our sons side in the hospital. Why.
I do not hold anything against this wonderful woman and her courageous family. At All. I just... I hate feeling human like this. I hate that I have to admit to these undesirable feelings. Why cant I just be all happy and giddy about the fact that life is going well for someone else who has beaten the odds, like they were meant to?
I have to have faith. I have to believe that there is a bigger purpose in all this, otherwise I think I will be bald soon from ripping my hair out.