Thoughts during the night

Sometimes the pain will wake me right up in the middle of the night. The incredible ache that courses through the muscles and terrorizes my joints. It wakes me from a dead sleep to wield its awful sword. So I take my medication and I wait, and hope it will disappear soon, that the awful hurt will subside and leave in its wake solace and peace.

But in those waking moments the thoughts of the mind kick in and I wonder what the future holds and when this battle will be won. I pray fervently that it will be over soon, but know in my heart there are more battles to be waged. I feel the swelling of my face against my arms and wonder if the face that looks at me in the mirror will ever be mine again or if that round moon face is permanently etched forever. I question the wisdom of the doctors and speculate the outcomes of the tests. Do I want to know what the tests have to say or would I prefer to stay blissfully unaware? I marvel at my own ability to keep persevering even when I want to give up, but sometimes doubt my own power to continue the journey. But know I must keep fighting.

I worry about my son and wonder, where does someone lose their conscience? Where does the conscience come from? Is it a product of our heavenly Father or is it something that is deep within our souls that we either have or we don’t? Can we lose our conscience? Is it something that can be diluted by abuse or erased by addictions? How can a person make the choices that they do when they know how hurtful they will be to others? Where is their conscience? Where is their soul? Do they not look into the face of their child and wonder, “what will my actions do to the soul of that boy?” Maybe that is the root of the issue…they do not look into the face of others and see the pain and torment that they are causing because they can only see the twisted burning of their own souls. The demons that tear within them; gnashing their teeth against their spirit and dripping their poison into their minds. And they cannot see the light. They cannot see the brightness of God. They are lost in the blackness of their days and the anguish of their addictions. So, all that is left is to pray that God can raise them out of the darkness. There is so little mere mortals can do except lift them up to their Father and pray for their release from all that haunts them, for the suffering to be vanquished.

And so I pray. Passionately for my son’s soul. For him to be cleansed, for him to be freed from the chains that bind him. For his conscience to be restored, for his additions to be broken, for the demons to be cast out. It is out of my hands now. Safely in the hands of the Father. But my heart still grieves with the hearts of many mothers who walk next to me, praying for the souls of their lost children.

The pain is subsiding and the alarm is soon to be going off and it will be time to embark on my day, one more day in the battlefields one more day in the war. Come. Walk with me. Together, we're making it through.