Dad, I don’t want to do this.
I know you don’t.
Is there another way?
There’s not son.
Will you hold my hand?
Always!
Day 2 was filled with anxiety for Josiah. He did not want the picc line. He did not like the idea of being put under and surgery. He knew his arm would be hurting for the next couple of days. He knew that he would have to use heat pads and would be asking nurses for Tylenol and extra pillows. He knew that the IV bags would be his shadows and the beeps will be nonstop for the next two weeks. Annie and I did our best to put his mind at ease, but we knew it was going to be a tough one.
As a dad, I can’t take away his anxiety. I can’t take away his fear. I can’t take away his pain. I can’t take away being stuck in a room for two weeks. I can’t take away the treatments, medications, and various experiments to see how we can get his weight up and lung functions “normal” for #cysticfibrosis standards.
What I can do is hold his hand. I can listen to him. I can offer hugs, fist pounds, and attempted wisdom. I can give encouragement. I can offer books and inspiring podcasts. I can pray for him both loudly and as I fall asleep at night. I can cheer him on and coach him through the hard stuff. I can walk with him through it.
As the nurse rolled him into the surgery room his eyes were as big as basketballs. They allowed music, and he requested “Waving through a Window” from the “Dear Evan Hansen” musical. He nervously started to sing and tears started to flow. They put the meds in his IV and he panicked screaming that it was cold. I grabbed his other hand and told him to look at me. We both sang one line and he was out. I wanted him to know we were walking through it together.
Sometimes we can’t fix the problems. As a dad, I want to fix all of my kid’s issues. As a husband, I want to fix all the problems that pop up in Annie’s life. As a pastor, I want to fix people’s faith and outlook. BUT…realistically I know I can’t fix people. I can reach out to everyone and encourage them in every way I know possible. I can reach out my hand and let them know that I’m here and they are not alone.
Maybe that’s what God does through our situations. We have to walk through the highs and lows of life…but He wants to hold our hand to remind us that we are not alone.
