My firstborn and only child is 15 months and 4 days old. And today was his once-every-3-months-wellcheck visit at the pediatrician’s office.
I love doctor visits. Even when they’re a bit frightening like unwanted ER trips, there’s still an excitement that comes over me to hear monitors beeping and see the hurry scurry of scrubs-clad medical people. Our pediatrician is much more laid back than the emergency room, of course. The nurses and staff make us feel at ease at every visit, and today was no different. Hugo checked all the boxes, grew a few inches, and gained weight in his own normal patterns.
And then came the dreaded vaccinations. I don’t dread them for myself, but I do for my son. With all the hype surrounding that big V-word, I’ve taken my research seriously and I’ve come to some simple conclusions about the way I want health to happen for my family. But today it wasn’t about my conclusions.
I stood next to the exam table giggling with my son at the crinkling sound his kicking feet made against the thin white paper on the table. We were done with the visit - all except shots. One booster of an immunization he’d already received, and the MMR. The Big One.
Accusations of pharmaceutical cover-ups, claims of vaccine injuries, correlations to developmental disabilities, local measles outbreaks, and real life immunization stories of friends began chasing each other through my head. You know the feeling of anxiety bubbling up? That feeling of your heart beating just a little faster, eyes opening a little wider, and muscles tensing just a little bit tighter? I felt all of those things as I waited with my little boy.
Then there was truth.
Truth that I had preached to myself over and over and that had sunk its roots deeper into my heart than I even realized. Truth that was meant for this very moment.
He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.
God is. God is before all things because he created all things which means he has enough power to sustain all things. Sometimes that sentence seems fuzzy and ethereal, but not today. Today it was real.
He knows about my precious son. God gave us Hugo to love and care for, but God is the one who made him and who sustains him. And that truth was enough to still my trembling heart today. Not enough to stop the tears, and not enough to show me what tomorrow holds, but enough for today.
I can’t make it without truths greater than myself. I can’t make it in motherhood, with all its life-giving decisions for a helpless child, because I can’t control everything. I can’t see into tomorrow, I can’t add or take away time from my life, and I cannot — really cannot — have any measure of lasting peace without trusting in truths greater than myself.
It really wasn’t about immunizations today in the doctor’s office. It was about leaning hard on Jesus for every step of every day.