It seems I’ve encountered a lot of suffering lately.  I do not know why, maybe this suffering is not new.  It’s likely I am just more acutely aware of the hurt of people I love.  I feel as if I am surrounded by it and my heart aches.  And I am “frustrated” by it all, I want to fix these things that I cannot fix!  I hate it, I feel helpless.

The destruction of divorce, death of a precious loved ones, personal illness, sickness of a child, loss of businesses, all deep hurts that seem on some days too much for one person to bare alone.

There is a new song with words I love, Count Every Blessing, by Rend Collective.

I am counting every blessing, counting every blessing
Letting go and trusting when I cannot see
I am counting every blessing, counting every blessing
Surely every season you are good to me

Sounds simple.  But it’s just not.

It had been a really long weekend.  A good one, filled with birthday fun, graduation parties and Kenya meetings but exhaustion was definitely there.  I could not wait to get home Sunday night to snuggle with my Ella.

Sitting down wasn’t even an option because at just after 7 o’clock, Rachel began calling out to me.  “Mom, help me!”

For the next five hours, she was physically and violently sick, every 15 minutes.

Rachel begs me to help her, asks me if it is over yet and pleads with me not to leave her.  I am helpless, all I could do is reassure her over and over…I am not going anywhere!

I want to make it better, but I can’t.  I want to stop it.  But I can’t.  I feel incapable of doing anything to fix this.  All I can do is hold her little hand in mine wait for the next round, and each time pray this would be the last time.

There is something reassuring about holding hands, just touching.  When someone holds my hand, I feel safe, protected, I feel loved.  So I don’t let go of Rachel’s hand.

Rachel moans, it is the eighth round, “Is this the last time, Mommy?”   She is fifteen, she doesn’t call me mommy very often.   She doesn’t want to hold my hand much anymore.  I often think, she doesn’t need me like she used to.

But I just hold her hand tight in mind.  She holds my hand tighter.  I desperately want her to somehow know I am with her.  And then I am taken back to a time and she was three years old and equally as sick.  The night I held her all night during my brother’s wedding reception.  I couldn’t help but think about how blessed I was to get to hold her then and how I get to hold her now, to get to be her mom.

And then it happened, the very moment the blessing came in the middle of this trial.

As I prayed for Rachel, begging God to help her, I couldn’t help but think about all the children of this world who don’t have somebody when they’re sick to hold their hand.  I thought of all the children I love in Africa.  And it broke my heart.  I fell asleep talking to God about this all, still holding Rachel’s hand…counting every blessing.

Rachel woke the next day, after sleeping off the weariness.  Her first words to me were thankfulness.  Her sweet words of praise that I had been with her.

But then she looked at my with her tired blue eyes, “Mom, all I could think of was children in Africa who don’t have a mom to hold their hand.”

Wow… I am blown away by her words.  Our hearts had been somehow woven together in the suffering for something much greater than us.  Our suffering together was turned into a blessing for both of us.  How did this happen?

I read a quote once from A.W. Tozer that says, “I see good things that only suffering can bring.” And I think I am beginning to understand his meaning.

Today, we are leaving for Kenya again.  Shelby, Rachel, Ella and I will be face to face with our blessings again.  We will have the incredible blessing of holding the hands of these children we love.  And all I have left to do is PRAISE!

Thank you for all of your prayers, support and love….we will carry each of you with us in our hearts to Kenya!