Struggles

After what seemed like the beginning of successful sleeping for young Jamie, a problem arose. I picked up a tummy bug! Tummy bug equals no food. No food equals reduced breast milk. Reduced breast milk equals poor feeding and the rest is history. So we are not quite out of the woods yet on the sleeping front.
However this minor problem pales into insignificance compared to my friend Clare's sister. Tracy gave birth, to a yet un-named, little boy three days ago. The wee child is hanging onto life having been today rushed from Kent to St. Thomas' hospital in London for an operation to repair a hole in his heart. As I heard the news, once the shock had subsided, I began to pray for this little boy. But there arose another struggle that I've had all my chritsian life - my prayer life sucks. As I began to mouth words my mind was filled with pictures of other mothers in other countries struggling to come to terms with the loss of their child from war, preventable disease, poverty... the list is endless. I managed to finish the prayer for this little boy but the words tasted like ash in my mouth. It's only when something strikes close to home that you realise how much God has blessed you and how fortunate you are. Times like these are a reminder to me that my conversations with God need to be more regular.
God feels the devastation of blighted human lives constantly, crises touches my life oh so briefly. It is almost incomprehensible the depth of love needed to send your only Son to share in fallen humanity, to enfold all out hurts and draw then back into Himself.