Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep
11-7-06
One of my greatest pleasures as a mother is being able to
partake in that age old ritual of tucking my children into bed at night. There
is nothing more satisfying than cozying up with them in a chair and reading
them a story (or two, depending on the amount of begging!). I love the
sensation of being able to caress their freshly washed hair and snuggle
their little flannel pajama bodies close as we read together. I like their
giggles when we get to the funny parts and their rapt attention as the story
unfolds. Their delight in a comforting bedtime ritual is a satisfying ending to
a long day. And being able to tuck the warm blankets around them and listen to
their little prayers is about as nice of a reward that a parent can hope to
receive this side of heaven.
It's also the time of day when their hearts seem to be most
open to sharing their deepest feelings. Usually they share their anticipation
about the coming day, whether it's a field trip or wearing a brand new shirt or
having their favorite hot lunch meal at school. I think it's interesting that
children seem to always be looking forward, whereas we adults revel in
looking to the past for our happy memories. Sometimes, along with the
excitement of things to come, they share their fears and worries. Perhaps
it's because they feel their most vulnerable as darkness sets in and they know
that they will soon be drifting off to sleep.
Obviously, Ben and Kirsten are at the age where praying out
loud with their mom at bedtime is considered "childish". But Sean and
And this little boy of ours who
seems wise way beyond his seven years, is looking to me for answers
that I don't have. I ask myself the very same questions every day of Jaymun's life. The chances of a baby being born with
congenital leukemia are so microscopic it's staggering. We are told that Jaymun is only the third baby in
The answer is--gently, ever so gently. I give you the
following bedtime conversation, as best I can recall it:
"Devon, this is
probably pretty confusing to you, isn't it?" I started. "But you know
what? It's confusing to me too and I'm a grownup! Let's think about all of
this for a bit, okay? Let's really talk about it and try to figure out
what might be going on up in heaven."
At which point he giggled and settled back to see where his
goofy mom was taking this conversation. I knew the point had to be simple, yet
profound. And so I began.
"Alright, here's what I think," I said. "I
think God knew that Jaymun was going to be born with cancer-"
"Because He knows everything!" Devon added solemnly.
"Right. He already knew before
Jaymun was born that he would have this terrible
cancer in his blood." I said. "And He knew that Jaymun
was going to need a lot of help. He knew that Jaymun
was going to have to be really strong to fight the cancer. He knew that Jaymun
would need a family that could love him and take
super good care of him because he would be sick for a very long time. And
He knew that Jaymun would have to have a bone marrow
transplant and that meant he would need someone in his family to
be a perfect match. And I'm sure that God knew that Jaymun
would need a big brother who would remember to pray every day for him, because
a lot of people might forget to do that when they got busy. And God knew Jaymun
would need a big family around him to keep him
really happy so he wouldn't think too much about being so sick. And so what do
you suppose God thought when He looked down from heaven and tried to figure out
the very best family to send Jaymun to?"
Devon sat up straight and
his eyes were enormous. You could see the lightbulb in his brain just popping away.
He laughed that carefree laugh of his, the one
we all adore so much, and bursted out, "I know,
Mom! I know! Now I get it! God picked our family out because
we were the best ones to take care of Jaymun! 'Cuz I'm the perfect match for his
bone marrow and I never
forget to pray for him. And we make him laugh and smile all the time. And
you're a mom that knows how to take care of sick kids. And Jaymun
was twelve pounds so that he could be tough enough to fight cancer. That's
why we got a baby with leukemia!"
I understand that maybe God has His own reasons for all of
this happening to our family. But so far, He hasn't let me in on them. Jaymun
didn't come with an instruction manual on how to
make decisions concerning his cancer (and don't think I'm not slightly annoyed
with that oversight!). I don't want to be presumptuous in trying to read God's
mind, but I have some little critters that need constant reassurance that their
baby brother is in good hands. And this is the only conclusion I've come to so
far: God knows our family and He loves Jaymun.
If He has entrusted us to take care of this adorable little guy--even when
we feel completely overwhelmed and severely incompetent at best--then for
as long as we have Jaymun, we plan to make every day
of his a happy one.
An upcoming bone marrow transplant and our
family being blessed with a baby who just happens to have cancer.....
In both
cases, we've got a perfect match.
