In the midst of Christmas feasts and wrapping paper and “Jingle Bells,” a word broke into our world, a nightmare for any parent: tumor. A CT scan and MRI confirmed that our 8-year-old son had a mass on his collar bone. But the doctor could tell us nothing more.
There was no peace on earth for us.
We waited.
And in the waiting, I wrestled with a familiar fear that had morphed from a small monster hidden under my son’s bed to a horrid kind of superhero who threatened my world. It was the spiritual elephant in my life that refused to be ignored. And now fear was feeding on it once again.
I didn’t trust God to keep my family safe.
How could I trust God with my child? My reticent mama’s heart was still tender from a collision years-old. What if this was no different? But if I didn’t trust God, what were my options?
Fear declared a smug and sure victory.
The oncologist saw us first thing after Christmas weekend. She reviewed the scans, scheduled our son for an immediate surgical biopsy the next morning, and told us to pray the tumor was an infection.
When they pushed my little boy on a gurney through the swinging doors into surgery, I made my way to the nearest bathroom and slumped to the cold tile floor. Seven months pregnant with our youngest child, I braced one palm against the floor as the other cradled my swollen belly, crying out to God to spare my firstborn son, powerless to do anything else.
I wish I could tell you I had peace like a river and an unshakable trust in God after struggling against gravity to pull myself off that floor. I’d like to tell you that peace came in the chapel where my husband and I escaped to pray together. Or when the OR nurse all but ran through those swinging doors and across the waiting area to tell us, “It’s infection! It’s infection!” Meaning, the tumor was not cancer and our son would be fine.
That’s not what happened that day, but it’s okay. Because something else did. A sort of beautiful invitation God extended to me with a powerful truth tucked inside: only God can keep me and those I care about safe. Fear and control are illusions—deceptive. And even worse, they divide my heart, forcing me to choose allegiance to either my heavenly Father…or to fear.
God is asking me to trust Him with my kids, with everything I care about. I bet He’s asked you too. So we have a choice: will we fear and control, or trust and release?
Most days, it’s a fight. But fighting fear is always worth it. On the other side of the fight is freedom and peace and the safest place my kids could ever be—in the hands of a loving, powerful, and trustworthy God.
“I prayed to the LORD, and He answered me. He freed me from all my fears. Those who look to Him for help will be radiant with joy…” Psalm 34:4.
Seeking Him Together,
Amy
Amy McDonell, MA, MHR
Amy is one humbled wife to the most solid-ground husband and mom to quadruple gifts. A lover of books and research and learning. Former college instructor turned editor and writer. A woman radically redeemed by one relentless Savior, made whole by God’s seemingly reckless grace.
Find Amy at her online home thewholeheartedmom.com where she writes to encourage moms to become the mom they want to be by loving and living from a place of wholeness found in God alone. Because we all come to motherhood with brokenness. But when we seek God to heal our broken places? We find Him. In the seeking and the finding, we learn what it means to be wholehearted—and become the mom we want to be.
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