Heartache.

This week, it was announced that 12-month-old Grayson Irwin was diagnosed with leukemia.

You can read Janelle's full story here at their CaringBridge site.

Grayson is about the same age as my Lucy.  His older sister, Kate, is about the same age as my Charlie.  His daddy, Brady, is our age - we went to high school with him.  His mommy, Janelle, is a year younger than us.  They were high school sweethearts, just like us.  They grew up in church, just like us.  Just like us, just like us, just like us.  Only now, their baby boy has cancer.

I have been in and out of tears all week.  As I have heard people talk, read the Facebook posts, searched their site, and pondered all of this in my own mind, I continually come back to this: why?  Why this child?  Or any child, for that matter?  Why these people?  Why this sickening illness?  I don't understand.  I can't.  I tried to talk to Rick about it, but he refused.  He wouldn't even allow himself to think about it would be like.  So I am left to think about it on my own.  I cannot imagine the fear, the anger, the stress, the pain - watching your infant child go through something you would gladly bear a million times over to keep him from it.  But you can't.  You're helpless.

Please understand - I am not trying to be eloquent.  I am not trying to be politically correct.  I am not trying to throw God under the bus (though, let's face it - He's God.  I think He can handle it).  I am trying to be brutally honest.  I don't understand.  In my head, I know that "In all things God works for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose" (Romans 8:28).  I know that God is in the business of transforming bads into goods.  And I know that in His power and His might, he can heal this little baby.  But why hasn't it happened?  What if it never happens?  In my heart, I am upset that God would allow it.  It's not even my kid.  I'm not even close to them, really.  I see their parents at church on Sunday, I ooo and ahh over their adorable Facebook pictures.  And I'm torn up.  I can't stop thinking about it.  And how selfish am I being right now, thinking about myself and what I would be thinking if it were my kid?

Here is what Janelle said on their Caring Bridge page:

Our world has been rocked, but my faith has not. My God is mighty to save and will give rest to the weary and faint of heart.

If anyone knows what's it like to be weary and faint of heart, it's them.  What a testament to the power of faith.  I am awed and inspired by Brady and Janelle and the death grip they have on the promises of God.

Oh to have faith like this.

I am praying for their marriage, their faith, their little girl who doesn't understand, that sweet baby boy who just knows he hurts.  The doctors and nurses.  The families.  The insurance.  The travel.  The details.

And I'm praying that God will help them (and me) remember that He is as the sky and we are as one single drop of rain, knowing not what the sky intends, but only that he has a job for us, and that we will do it whether we are one of many, or the only
drop
of
rain
in
the
sky.