And He has said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness." Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. (2 Corinthians 12:9; NASB)

I’ve been MIA for a couple of weeks and I apologize. The last you heard from me, my son had a couple of seizures that we attributed to the temperature spikes associated with the ear infection he had. After an EEG and a consultation with the pediatric neurologist, we now know that my oldest son has seizure disorder (also known as epilepsy).

Not only that, but then I succumbed to whatever bug has been going around, and with my asthma, I was sidelined because it settled into my chest. So, to say we’ve had a bit of a rough patch might be the understatement of the year!

People ask us how we’re doing, and it’s a strange thing, really. Maybe it’s because we’ve done the whole “scary diagnosis” thing before with him when he was diagnosed with autoimmune Type 1 diabetes shortly before his third birthday. Maybe it’s because when he was diagnosed back then he was housed in a unit of the hospital with children with bone and blood cancers and I realized that, though scary, chronic and life-threatening, for the large part, he would live a normal life with a few additional modifications to our life, and that he would walk out of the hospital when many of those children would not. Maybe it’s because the neurologist said that, unlike his Type 1 diabetes , he might outgrow the seizures. But, I suspect, whereas all of those things bear a part in it, the main reason I’ve not fallen apart yet, is that I’ve lived over 25 years of my life in God’s care and have seen “all things to work together for good” (Romans 8:28).

One of the great mysteries of Christianity is how someone like Paul, who was shipwrecked, beaten, left for dead and imprisoned on more than one occasion could write joyful letters and encourage his Christian brethren to rejoice:

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice! (Philippians 4:4; NASB)

Though I don’t count myself yet to have reached the level of spiritual maturity that our brother Paul had attained, I do feel that the older I become in Christ and the more I see of God’s care and providence, I am able to see that difficulties come to us all, and the difference is how we withstand them. Many who are not of our “like precious faith” think that being a Christian means a free pass from life’s difficulties. It doesn’t. It means that when those difficult times come, we have an Anchor.

I know that whether or not my son outgrows these seizures or they are a lifelong condition, we will be alright. I know that though I get scared and worried sometimes, I can “cast my anxieties upon Him” (1 Peter 5:7). I know I have a big Brother who understands:

For we do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who has been tempted in all things as we are, yet without sin.(Hebrews 4:15; NASB)

Our family is hanging tough. My son is physically doing well, thanks to the medication prescribed. Mentally and emotionally, he’s doing okay, as we’re seeking out support groups and helping to educate him about this illness. He is spiritually adjusting very well, knowing fully that God loves him and is watching over him.

Photo credit: Marie Stroughter, artwork by N. Stroughter