A Swollen Eye and a Simple Lesson

Posted by Jennifer B. | April 5, 2007 | 11 Comments

Do you ever wonder about the Israelites who refused to look at Moses’ serpent and be healed? The Book of Mormon teaches us that all they had to do was to look. Why didn’t they do it? It was too simple.

A few years ago, my son was ill, and after a couple of days his eye began to swell. I called an after-hours nursing service and explained my son’s symptoms. “Go to bed,” she told me. “Call your doctor in the morning.” We went to bed. A few hours later, the ringing phone shattered my sleep.

”Hello?” I croaked.

“Hi. I’m sorry to disturb you. This is the nurse you spoke to earlier. I’ve been at the computer looking over the symptoms you mentioned. Did you say your son’s eye was swelling?”

“Yes.”

“And he has a fever?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m afraid he needs to be seen by a doctor. . . immediately.”

She called our pediatrician. He called us. He would be in his office in a few hours. We were to come in first thing.

I don’t remember if we slept after that. We showed up at the doctor’s office early. My puffy-eyed son sat on the exam table as the doctor explained that the swelling could be caused by one of two things: infection or allergy. If an infection were to blame, it could be serious, even life-threatening. And it was not especially unlikely–two patients were being treated with IV antibiotics in the hospital for just such an infection. If it were an allergic reaction, antihistamine would remedy the problem. To be on the safe side, our son received a shot of “super-antibiotics.” We also administered antihistamine and were sent home to wait for 24 hours. We waited. My son lay on the sofa in a Benedryl-induced slumber as we searched for signs that the swelling was going down. Any improvement would indicate that infection was not to blame.

My spouse and I prayed. My family prayed. Later that day, a comforting sense of peace left me with the strong impression that everything would be all right. But, sadly, I soon had a poignant struggle when I realized that I did not know what “all right” meant. Would it mean the recovery of my sweet son? Or perhaps his return to Heavenly Father? I wasn’t sure. When I let my thoughts linger on the possibility of losing my little boy, I began to crumple–I couldn’t think about it. I was faced with the choice of exercising my faith and accepting the comfort the spirit had offered, or of refusing it and spending the night in fear and worry. I wrestled.

To our joy, our son responded well to the antihistamine and soon recovered, but it left me wondering about the strength of my faith. Maybe I was the one who needed a booster shot; you know, some spiritual super-antibiotics to help kill off the fear that had infected me. I know mortality means we will suffer grief and pain, but when it was my turn to suffer I was scared. It was not easy to release my fear–at times I clung to it as if holding on to it would spare my boy. If I let go of the fear, then I had to trust God and be willing to let go of my son too–and that would mean pain. I had no control over the outcome, but I did have a choice. A simple choice. My choice. If I wanted, I could decide to accept and trust the peace I had felt. But that just seemed too simple–like looking at a brass serpent.

Category: Daily Special

Comments

11 Responses to “A Swollen Eye and a Simple Lesson”

Kathryn Soper
April 5th, 2007 @ 8:32 am

Wow, Jennifer.

Well said, well said. I’ve had that very same struggle. When Thomas was in the hospital as a preemie I was wasted with stress. One night it all came to a head and I asked Reed for a blessing. In the blessing I was promised Thomas would come home in due time, but that I needed to be patient. The next morning the hospital called me and told me he was deathly ill with sepsis, he was on a ventilator, he had nearly died in the night. I didn’t know what to think. Was he going “home”–heavenly home–and I needed to be patient–WAY patient–because I wouldn’t see him again for a long time? Or would he come home to our house at some point?

He got better within days.

I’m so glad his mortal healing wasn’t dependent on my expectation of it. But honestly, I’ve heard so many stories of people being blessed with healing, and then they die… heavenly healing, I guess. So I don’t blame myself for wondering if that might be the case for Thomas.

But your point is well taken. If I’m blessed with peace, I have the choice of focusing on that, and not trying to interpret what it means. Although, I don’t think that, had he died, that piece wouldn’t have included intense grief. The two can go hand-in-hand.
Jennifer B.
April 5th, 2007 @ 9:56 am

Kathy, you are so right. Being blessed with peace certainly doesn’t remove grief or pain from our lives–I think it just makes it possible to endure and grow closer to the Lord rather than to grow bitter.

Also, in retrospect, my choice was simple, but it was NOT easy. Thanks for your comments.
Courtney
April 5th, 2007 @ 11:25 am

Jennifer, I can really relate this this line:

But, sadly, I soon had a poignant struggle when I realized that I did not know what â€œall rightâ€ meant.

The whole post got me nodding my head.

Thank you.
Cindy
April 5th, 2007 @ 1:17 pm

It’s funny, how you can have a question for the Lord and then for a couple days everything seems to be your answer. Thank you for this post.

The difference between simplicity and ease can be so difficult!
Kathryn Soper
April 5th, 2007 @ 1:27 pm

Yes yes yes, that’s exactly right, Jennifer. Thank you.
texasgal
April 5th, 2007 @ 2:30 pm

My favorite line: “I know mortality means we will suffer greif and pain, but when it was my turn to suffer, I was scared.”

Ah yes, the big old gap between what we know and how we live –when will we ever get those two together?
Heather O.
April 5th, 2007 @ 3:43 pm

I don’t think the Lord ever says we can’t be scared. Suffering is scary. Really scary. Maybe that’s the point, though. You come to Him, you pray to Him, you succumb to His will even when you are terrified. Seems like a pretty good definition of faith to me.

Glad everything worked out well. And thanks for an interesting post.
Angie
April 5th, 2007 @ 4:39 pm

I love this analogy. I have experienced the same thing with my husband’s illness. I also struggle with accepting the peace the Savior would offer me because I worry about what else I may be asked to be at peace with…crazy as I type it, almost as crazy as not looking at the serpent.
Darlene
April 6th, 2007 @ 11:24 am

I’ve found that my fear in these kinds of situations isn’t so much of the outcome but rather that I will influence the outcome negatively by failing to listen to the spirit. Like, “God may mean my child to heal from this illness by leading us to see a certain doctor or get a certain test, but my inability to understand the promptings of the spirit may make me miss the prompting. Am I living righteously/having enough faith to qualify for the direction of the spirt and to recognize it?”

I think I could handle it if I got a revelation from God telling me I was going to die. What’s hard is all the little daily decisions that I have to make, not knowing whether I am actually influencing that outcome. The scriptures are full of people who seem to change the course of things through their own efforts–Alma’s prayer of intercession for his son Alma Jr., for example, which resulted in a visitation to Alma Jr. And all the scriptures that tell us to pray over our flocks and herds, etc. etc. Obviously my actions and faith can influence the outcome of things. THAT’s what makes me scared! (And fear then pushes out my faith! So I can have faith that God’s will is right and at the same time totally lack faith in myself.)

It’s that same question that Elder Eyring always talks about: the difficulty of knowing that my life is acceptable to God.
Maralise
April 6th, 2007 @ 11:47 am

I have many times let fear rule my decisions, fear of making the wrong choice, of not being righteous enough to make the right choice. And I dealt with that by making NO decisions, moving nowhere for fear of doing something wrong (or overanalyzing each decision making it a painful process for me and the others involved).

Overcoming that paralysis has led me to gain a more intense respect for the mercy that is extended to me. I know that Heavenly Father guides my life (often despite my actions). I even think he trusts me to make big and little decisions, mistakes and all. I don’t fear making decisions now. I have learned a tremendous amount by making the “wrong” choices, I have learned about mercy, about God’s own parental-style love, about how almost no “mistake” is unpardonable. In my opinion, the only time that mistakes are “irreparable” is when we learn nothing about God’s love from them. Sermon over….
Jennifer B.
April 6th, 2007 @ 12:47 pm

Darlene — That is so hard! Fear (of pain, consequences, or of understanding the spirit like you explained) can be debilitating. It’s tough to know where we stand and to be humble about our weakness rather than discouraged.

Maralise — I love what you say about God’s mercy and I applaud you for being able to get past your fear.

You all make me think so much. What an interesting discussion. Thanks for your very insightful comments!