The Suffering Side of Love PicLast night Meg announced she was going to sleep through today and wake up Monday morning and see if she felt any better.
I told her it was a marvelous idea.
Evan on the other hand, told her it couldn’t be done. She narrowed her eyes at him, stuck out her bottom lip, and burst into tears. I gave him my own dirty look, equivalent to those received for waking a colicky baby, tracking dirt across a clean floor, or any other offense lacking respect for the work it took. He shrugged his shoulders and walked down the hall to his room, mumbling about getting in trouble for the truth.
I thought about going after him to apologize, but I had a wailing Meg on my lap, and I figured this could be a good life lesson…because sometimes, there is no winning.
After Meg’s 20+ breakdowns ranging from pain, to irritating birds singing loudly, there wasn’t any winning or rationalizing to be had. She had hit the point of being sick and tired, of being sick and tired. It makes my heart hurt seeing her break down again and again. I understand life being too hard to take sometimes. I’ve hoped for better days while watching them grow worse.

She’ll continue to stay on the pressure reducing medication, although we may be increasing it. Depending on how it goes, we will try to wait until December when her next appointment is in Houston with the surgeons. If it’s too much of a struggle, we’ll go down earlier to see what our options are.

These days make me appreciate the suffering side of love. The love that goes through the nitty-gritty and endures. It makes me love Jesus all the more for not waiting for me to be at my best before loving me. I also see how I’ve failed to know the depths of what I’ve been given, until called to extend it myself.

This is real love - not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as a sacrifice to take away our sins. Dear friends, since God loved us that much, we surely ought to love each other.     1 John 4:10-11