Sometimes I forget that James has a severe congenital heart defect.
I will go about my regular life, complaining and worrying about the most insignificant things. The days seem normal, really. And then, it knocks the wind out of me as I look at him and suddenly remember that he has a lifelong illness. That he will need, at minimum, one life-saving open-heart surgery. And as much as I fight against the thought, I know that this is not something that can be fixed and I will never have to worry about his health again. I will always worry. Even if his correction goes as planned, we will always be waiting for the next shoe to drop. This is a lifelong challenge.
The crippling anxiety at what he is going to have to endure and go through sets in. And those petty thoughts I was just having about my girls refusing to eat their dinner don't seem quite so important.
I am grateful for the newfound perspective. I am broken for all those wonderful moms and dads that are waiting to be reunited with their angels in heaven. I know that we are one of the lucky ones, and that there are families that are even luckier than us.
When we chose to come to earth, we knew that the heartaches of mortality, including imperfect bodies, was part of the deal and would be well worth the pay day.
Elder Holland sums up my feelings pretty well:
"There is no shortage of suffering in this world, inside the Church and out, so look in any direction and you will find someone whose pain seems too heavy to bear and whose heartache seems never to end. One way to “always remember him” would be to join the Great Physician in His never-ending task of lifting the load from those who are burdened and relieving the pain of those who are distraught.
Beloved friends, as we unite across the globe each week in what we hope is an increasingly sacred acknowledgment of Christ’s majestic atoning gift to all humankind, may we bring to the sacramental altar “more tears for his sorrows [and] more pain at his grief.” And then, as we reflect, pray, and covenant anew, may we take from that sacred moment “more patience in suff’ring, … more praise for relief.” For such patience and relief, for such holiness and hope, I pray for all of you"