During the last two weeks, my love and respect for my little Samuel have been greatly enhanced. Directly following his six-month growth spurt and during the toughest time of teething, he somehow caught a nasty virus (likely brought to my home by a violin student). For three nights in a row, his temperature rose to 102, and though we were able to bring it down each time, it was scary! The post-fever aftermath of sniffing/coughing/sneezing/hurting was definitely no fun either. And we were making it worse by constantly sticking things in his ears/nose/mouth in hopes of relieving some of the anguish. It was very difficult for me to see him struggle against something I couldn't really help him overcome. We prayed for him and tried our best to nurse him back to health, and felt great gratitude every time he took a step towards health, to which he is finally nearly fully restored.
Taken after cooling the first high temperature. What a champ!
This is the first time I have experienced the worry of a parent for a child, and it brought to mind two things. One: the way Keenan must have felt (in part) watching me give birth to Samuel. Incapable of removing the pain of someone so beloved, he patiently endured it with me. And two: the way our Heavenly Father must feel (in part) watching us endure hard things. The difference between His experience and mine is that when Samuel was suffering, I was helpless. When we suffer, our Father in Heaven wisely withholds his help until the time is right. I don't think I would have been so wise, had I that same power.
What an incredible task parenting is!
