Memoirs of a Momma: Bottle of Tears

We’d had the twins less than 48 hours when I took them to the doctor to check on the bout of croup D had been struggling with.  As we stepped through the door, I found myself engulfed by an entire team of doctors and nurses and specialists of all sorts who kindly walked me through all kinds of processes that would soon become day-to-day in this foreign new life.  They were thorough in their evaluations and at the end of our now lengthy visit, the case manager walked back in with unfortunate news: we were headed to the ER.




Hang tight though, it wasn’t as terrifying as it seemed. It turns out that when kiddos get pulled out of a circumstance where they could have been exposed to domestic violence they are taken to an emergency department and inspected from head to toe — just to make sure we know everything possible about where they’ve been and what they may have been through.  It’s supposed to happen before they get placed in a foster home, but somehow this step had been missed for the twins as they came to us, so off to the ER we went.

Little did I know that amidst system slip-ups and kind-hearted doctors, the Lord had in store a precious gift He wanted to root deeply in my heart…

As the doctors went about their tests and documentation, they needed to draw blood from each of the boys.  My roommate and I each took a kiddo, D with her and J with me, and into separate rooms we went to try and speed this unending day along.  11 pm after a long hard week and J was starting to lose it, so much so that it took both a tech and myself to hold down this 17 month old boy so the doctor could poke and prod and finally stick a needle into his arm.  I braced myself for his tears and was doing pretty well, right up until the point when he looked up at me and the pain and fear in his eyes turned to pain and betrayal.

I don’t think I can capture in words the tangible and inescapable shatter of my heart as his penetrating eyes asked me why I wasn’t saving him from this??  There I stood, not just a willing bystander, but an active participant in his pain; not rescuing him as he hoped, but holding him down through the torture.  Everything in me ached; my mind screamed, “Precious child! I would NEVER put you through this if it wasn’t for your good!”  As tears began streaming down my face, there flickered some confusion in his eyes and all I could do was pray that he understood it hurt me too and that I wouldn’t leave him alone in this pain, I’d hold him tight through every moment.  I pleaded the impossible — that he might know it would only last a moment, and that the test would help us save him from immeasurable more pain in the future.


It wasn’t until I was driving home later that night that I realized how many times I have sat in J’s position – crying out to the Lord with pain and betrayal in my voice, begging Him to save me from this present suffering.  How many times have I questioned His love as wave after wave of pain come crashing in?  How quick I am to forget the unmovable character of God.  And it’s that same character of God that would waste no opportunity to remind me of His love so that now in moments where I feel overtaken by the pangs of life I hear echoing in the back of my mind the voice of a loving Father which cries out, “Precious child, I put you through this only for your good!  I will never leave you nor forsake you, and I will comfort you even as I ache for you.”

J’s pain was real and present that night in the ER, and it has long since been forgotten.  I, on the other hand, still fight off tears each time I recall that moment.  How much more comforting it is to know that the God of the universe counts our every tear and mourns with us every ache.


You keep track of all my sorrows.
    You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
    You have recorded each one in your book.

Psalm 56:8


The truth of God’s good and compassionate sovereignty which I have clung to time and time before suddenly had new heart strings attached as I got to glimpse His love for us through my own love of a precious little boy I had only known a matter of days.  And that was only the beginning…


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~ by eileendekker on August 26, 2018.

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