I was between moments of time when I saw before my eyes the disaster that was going to happen and being just a hand’s reach too far from actually stopping anything. But seeing what I saw and knowing what I know about falls, my son would need major comfort after this crash.
Our son began walking about two months ago. He’s slowly gaining his ground legs. But he still walks with the swagger of a drunken sailor (heehee): he is not the most stable on his feet. He’s definitely getting stronger, but he thinks he’s much more invincible than he really is. Herein lies the problem.
Baby Boy was laughing and running from our gentle pup Indie. My son has the sweetest laugh that encapsulates his whole little body. I smile every time I hear it, wanting to join in and play.
But my son faceplants more times than I can count, and this particular calamity was a bit more terrifying for a new mom’s fragile heart. The collapse happened in slooooow motion: Baby Boy looking back at Indie; me seeing the doorframe right in front of Baby Boy; his body inches from meeting the doorframe.
I watched my son’s shocked face as he fell.
I felt my body jolt into action seconds too late.
I braced myself for the inevitable pain-filled tears.
Face and tender mouth of newly emerging teeth met doorframe, and the rest of Baby Boy’s body came tumbling down. Even though my mind quickly calculated this collision, sizing up the total amount of destruction, my heart was not prepared for the hurt that came so suddenly after the joy we were sharing.
Oh my heart!
There were those horrifying seconds of extreme silence. I rushed as quickly as I could to where he was and picked him up, first checking for blood and then holding him close to me. Those seconds after a crash are the most painful as a child gains enough breath in his lungs to let out an almighty ROAR.
And that is exactly what happened.
There was nothing in my power that could have been done to prevent the fall, the accident, the hurt and pain my son felt. My heart was overcome for his hurt. I wanted it to be me who had accidentally crashed into the door frame and not him. I wanted to be the one hurting and not him.
He cried and almost could not be consoled, but I held on to him to let him know his mommy was here. I was not going to let him go until the pain subsided and he felt confident again.
And as I held him, kissing his head and wiping away his tears, I felt another presence hurting with me and kissing my son’s head as well.
Jesus? Are you here? Did you see this? Are you listening?
Jesus, the great comforter that He is, is here with my son and I. His presence is greater than the hurt that wants to trample us.
He has watched over me and comforted me—in my younger years when I bumbled along and now as a wife and a mom figuring out how to do and be both well. He sees when I hurt, and His own heart hurts far deeper than mine ever could.
When I hurt, Jesus hurts. When I cry, Jesus cries. When I suffer, Jesus comforts.
Unfortunately, I know my son will get hurt again and again, physically and mentally. Either by his own doing or someone else’s doing.
Can’t I just encase him in bubble wrap and protect him from every evil in the world? Can I always hold him in my arms and cuddle away every fear, every hurt, every moment of worry?
Alternatively, I don’t want him to experience the pain and suffering I have.
But I am thankful to know that God will be with my son, through every hurt, tear, pain, and suffering, and He will comfort my baby boy when I am there and more importantly when I am not. And the great comforter will comfort my sweet boy even more than I ever could
O Lord, thank you for not only being my biggest hope and comfort; My safe place and refuge; The holder of my tears and sorrows. But thank you that you are all these things and more for my son as well.
“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.”
2 Corinthians 1:3-4
Jesus comforts me in my deepest sorrows. In Him, my comfort overflows, and I am able to comfort my son. The Perfect Example has shown me the best way to comfort. As my arms hold my son, I imagine the great comforter, wrapping His arms around us all. And my heart knows no greater contentment than this.
Prayer
Dear Heavenly Father, Thank you for being my greatest hope and comfort. My hope is firm in you because you share in my sufferings and you share in my comfort. Thank you for showing me grace and compassion in all of my troubles so that I may comfort others. Father, I ask that you would teach me and grow me in the area of comfort, helping my son, husband, family, and others to see you more clearly and experience your fulfillment. We thank you for all the good gifts and fruit of the Spirit that come from only you. In Jesus’ name, we pray, Amen.
