Fear... and Power

In the past four days, I have taken approximately 200-300 photos of Shepherd.  It's not because I want to remember him in the hospital or because I want to show the world how terribly pitiful he looks.  I take these random photos because when he sees mommy taking his picture, he smiles, and for the past four days, all I've wanted to do was make that precious angel smile.

We're not all Facebook or e-mail friends, so for those of you who do not know, I will update you.  Shepherd has an infection in his left thigh called Cellulitis.  This infection can get really severe, really quickly, so they put him in the hospital.  Originally, we were thinking we might get to come home today, but that didn't happen.  Instead, we were told the medicine wasn't strong enough and they'd have to put him on something stronger.  So as I'm typing, he is currently receiving a two hour injection of something tremendously stronger than the medicine he was originally on.

When this all started, I noticed he wanted to be held a lot more.  That's right- Mr. Independent wanted mommy ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL of the time and I had no idea it was because he was getting so very sick.  And I complained and whined about having to hold him.  I was frustrated because I couldn't clean my house the way I wanted to, or put away the ever growing mountain of laundry.  I was mad that he was in my way... and now that he's sleeping less than two feet from me, all I want to do is wake him up, cuddle him, and never let go.

You see, I laid down a few minutes ago to go to sleep and as I closed my eyes, my heart filled with panic and sorrow, and the first picture that came to my head was Shepherd's funeral.  Seriously- he's not that sick. I mean, I thought "It's a bug bite, I think- he'll be fine." and I didn't want to over dramatize it.  I thought "He's fine, no need to worry."  I thought "We'll go home on Saturday..." and now here we are, 12:05 on Sunday morning, marking our fourth official day here.  So obviously, it's serious, but not "funeral" serious.

He's no where near death, but I've had this nagging feeling that something really bad was going to happen to him for a while now (like months).  And being in the hospital, I have had complete peace- until about 20 minutes ago.  A real panic swept over me... until I heard his gentle snores.

I immediately picked up the phone and texted a friend.  I wanted to know someone could pray for peace for me.  I wanted to know that I was not alone.  When the nurse came in to administer the IV meds, I went to the bathroom to wipe my tear-stained face.  After she left, I sat on the side of my bed weeping some more and proclaiming scripture over this precious baby and over my heart.

You see, what I had forgotten was a word I received from a friend: 2 Tim 1:7 "God did not give us a spirit of fear or timidity, but of power, love, and a sound mind."  Power.  I forget that we have so much power when we claim scripture.  I forget what a great reminder that is.  I forget that we have the power to choose what we allow into our hearts and minds and if we allow the fear to come in, we are giving the enemy exactly what he wants.  That fear can take control, robbing us of any peace and joy that could have been found.  And that's exactly what happened here, for a brief moment.

I am going back to bed soon (because I have to wake up to turn off the IV machine around 1:30).  But I'm going back to bed with this- that spirit of fear, that panic attack I just had, that was not from God.  That was a lie from the enemy, trying to steal my joy.  And because I am a believer, I am claiming healing over my son.  I have the power of the Holy Spirit living inside of me- that power that I have been too timid to tap into (for God did not give us a spirit of fear or timidity).  I have the power to claim healing and if it be God's will- that healing will take place.  

So tonight, in this place, all fear is gone and I am claiming healing over Shepherd... in His name.  And I fully expect to wake up tomorrow refreshed and with great results.  I fully expect that if this is God's true will, my son will walk out of here tomorrow and we will return home where mommy can snuggle him tightly for as long as she wants to... and then he can help unfold laundry.  ;)  And when he does, I'll take a picture of it for you- not because it will make him smile, but because I want to capture that precious smile for me to stare at for years to come.  :)

Just being real.  Thanks for letting me be vulnerable for a moment.

No longer fearful,

No longer I,

The Real Life Mom.