Taking The Pain

While visiting my family in PA this past week, Caleb had to spend a day at the hospital. He had a high fever with vomiting and would not eat or drink anything. We took him to Urgent Care and because of his age, they decided to run every possible test on him, "just in case."

My two-year old little boy was so exhausted and tramatized after his eight hours of abuse, that I believe he started having flashbacks while visiting his great-grandma in the nursing home a few days later. The poor kid cried anytime he saw someone in scrubs, fearing he would be poked and prodded with needles up his nose, up his backside, in his mouth, and (worst of all) in his most private of areas. I do not blame him. After four catheters, I would be having war-like flashbacks and running for the door.

The entire time our little guy endured the trauma, I kept wishing I could take the pain for him. As he cried during each procedure, I held him and kept telling him I loved him. If only his young mind could understand that the short amount of pain was for his own good and would help him grow stronger.

Does my Heavenly Father look at me like that? While going through (in hindsight) short times of pain, does He try to comfort me and remind me that each trial will help me grow stronger? Am I looking at Him during the entire procedure and pleading for relief, or am I trying to remain strong and in control? Do I let my tears pour down? Do I cling to Him when it is all over? And will I ever mature enough to trust Him more the next time a trial appears?

Eventually, the doctors ruled his sickness to be a small virus/bug. It was good we took him in (I might change my mind if they bill us for the ER instead of Urgent Care) because they gave him fluids and medicine. I know he will not remember the details to that day, even though it caused him so much pain and frustration. But, I will always recall the emotions as his parent, wanting to take the pain away. Although I was seeing the big picture the entire time, my heart was constantly hurting for him.

I ask again: Does my Heavenly Father see me that way? I know He does. I wonder when I will reach the age that I finally accept it?