Where Was God in My Pain?
I treated God like a genie… until grief changed everything. I used to be a prayer warrior welding my spiritual sword boldly and confidently. However, I have come to realize that I have been misunderstanding faith and prayer. No matter how strong I thought I was and what I had overcome, losing a child was not something I bargained for… it has broken me.
My 16-year-old son lay in the hospital bed fighting for breath, as his weak lungs filled with liquid, but he held on. Even when the doctors told me there was nothing they could do, I was confident my son would pull through because my God always pulled through; all I had to do was wish it.
You see, Jaden was born struggling to breathe at birth and very anemic due to troubles in my womb; doctors told me then he would not make it through the night. We prayed hard, and my son made it through the night, then the doctors told me that he suffered severe brain damage due to a lack of oxygen to the brain… The doctors said he would not live beyond 2 years old.
We prayed hard again, and even though he was officially diagnosed with SEVERE Spastic Quadriplegia Cerebral Palsy at 9 months old, he was still alive.
Context of my son’s condition:
– Cerebral Palsy is a condition marked by impaired muscle coordination (spastic paralysis) and/or other disabilities, typically caused by damage to the brain before or at birth.
–Spastic quadriplegia is a specific type of cerebral palsy that refers to difficulty in controlling movements within all four limbs.
The Faith I Thought I Had
Jaden had many hospital visits, many treatments, and many therapies; in fact, his hospital file looked like an encyclopedia, but he was alive. He was also wheelchair-bound, had frequent chest infections, suffered from convulsions and muscle stiffness, but he was alive.
I had to feed Jaden through a tube in his tummy because of nutrition problems and gastric reflux, but he was alive. My boy was a warrior, a fighter, always smiled, and he baffled doctors constantly because he always defied all odds. He was my miracle baby. God did that every time…my son got sick, I prayed, and God would come through.
Questioning God in My Pain
My sweet boy celebrated his crown birthday; he was 16 on the 16th of January 2020. I was so happy that he was as healthy as he could be and that we made it another year. Then, not even two months later (2 days after my youngest son’s birthday), I had to witness his death. I watched as my baby struggled with his breathing, and his fever raged.
I got sick too, so it was so difficult to take care of him when I was exhausted, I wasn’t sure I could do push through like I usually did, but I pushed anyway. We had done chest infections before, but this time he just got worse and worse; it was a different strand of pneumonia, not even COVID-19 (although that was suspected). Jaden was struggling so much…
When Prayers Felt Unanswered
11th March 2020…I will never forget that day as long as I live. Jaden was intubated in the ICU. My big beautiful boy was fighting so hard , and they told us he would not make it. BUT that is what they ALWAYS said, doctors had been saying THAT since Jaden was born, I was so worried this time but confident because I had prayed to my God ( no, I begged God) so of course Jaden was going to make it. I believed it, so Jaden had to be okay…
I kissed Jaden on his cheek and told him: “Baby fight for mommy, please. Mommy loves you JadeyWadey, and I’m not going anywhere.” Five minutes later, the heart monitor started to slow down, and nurses rushed in with a cart, then the machine started a long beeeeeppp as my sweet boy’s heart stopped.
I was rushed out of the room as they ripped the sheet off him to get to resuscitate. I was trembling, listening to that long beeeeep (that sound still gives me nightmares), I froze, and I just couldn’t breathe. I vaguely remember my husband taking me away in his arms while someone was screaming…ugly wailing…and that someone was me.
I remember feeling like everything was muted and I was in a long tunnel, then I saw the doctor come to us… already knew before he said it: my baby, my beautiful boy, was gone…
I have never cried like that before, and I do not remember much except that my husband was crying too. Then they took us to see him…gosh, my heart… the pain. Jaden looked so small, so sweet, like he was sleeping, and I was shaking as I brushed his beautiful face with my fingers.
Jaden taught me so much with just his smile, his quiet strength and I will never see that smile again, never see the way his eyes lit up when he saw me. I miss him… so much, my heart does not feel complete and I feel my identity is in question. I am lost…and I am struggling to find my way. My grief exposed what my faith was really built on.
Treating God Like a Genie
Unless you have been living in the Stone Age, everyone should know what a genie is. Well, if not, then let me break it down for you…think Aladdin, you know, the street urchin that finds a dirty lamp and rubs it?
A blue apparition, aka Genie, pops out and grants him three wishes? He then goes on to fight for love and freedom against the evil that is Jaffar… coming back right? Okay, if you need more explanation, then a genie is a spirit of Arabian folklore. It is depicted traditionally as an imprisoned spirit within a lamp, and when you rub the lamp, the spirit then allows you to make your wishes. Got it?
I have recently come to realise that God is no Genie. Yes, I know that you may think that I am crazy, but I’m not (well, sometimes). For me to even think GOD was kinda a genie before should be ludicrous, right? But is it really such a sensational statement? I didn’t actually think God was in a lamp or that HE was actually blue, but I did believe he granted my wishes, and I took the gospel as my guide:
“For truly I tell you, if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”– Matthew 17:20
Basically, that means I prayed, and stuff happened because thus was my faith in God. I obviously had to stay on the straight and narrow, only then God ‘ will make a way when there seemed to be no way’.
Wrestling With Doubt and Anger
When bad things happened in my life, I felt I had strayed from the ten commandments (yes, sometimes my halo does slip, bite me!) and ‘punishment’ was inevitable because God is Just-ice ( the ‘punishment’ always fits the ‘crime’).Most times, I didn’t understand the reasoning because the God we serve is supposed to not judge and love us unconditionally, right? That is what we are taught as Christians, and at the same time, we think we are untouchable because God is great.
BUT it is GOD that is great, and WE are only human. In fact, the more you try to walk the path of righteousness, the more you are attacked by the Devil, I guess, because Gosh does crap always get worse when you are trying your best to be a good person. It took one time. Just one that shattered my whole world. From being a faith-filled person, I became a person full of anger, doubt, and bitterness. HE didn’t grant me my wish, and now my little boy, my sweet, beautiful boy, is gone.
When My Son Died and Everything Shattered
I loved my life just as it was. Yes, I was exhausted most times, but being a mom, especially a mom to a son with cerebral palsy, made me feel so special. I felt I had a purpose. A clear purpose in life, which I received with gratitude. I had to look after an angel, and what could be more honorable than that?
I am unprepared and ill-equipped to deal with this ache in my heart. This tearing pain that floods me and stays with me from the day Jaden was taken from me. My self-worth was in question as I tossed around the what-ifs surrounding Jaden’s last few days, and the guilt ate me up inside. Did I do enough? Did I do something wrong? Did I let my beautiful boy down?
Was God angry at me? Was I not good enough? Was I not worthy enough to be a special needs mom anymore? God broke me… How do I process? What do I do now? Without Jaden…Who am I?
Then it is the anger. The terrible, searing, burning anger towards God. I have cried till I was weak, and I have cried till my throat hurt. I have screamed and shouted at God: Why God? WHY????? How could YOU do this? Why didn’t you help him? I called out to YOU; didn’t you hear me?? How could YOU make someone so precious and innocent be in so much pain? How could YOU?? How could YOU not grant me my wish? I begged and pleaded…didn’t you hear me call on YOU to help Jaden? Why, Lord, how could YOU do this to me??
Then it’s the fear and torment because in the midst of our grief, the global pandemic hit. So now with my faith being knocked off kilter, my mere mortality was never more threatened, and I’m terrified of losing another child or more people I love.
The loss of Jaden and this pandemic all bring home the fact that there is no such thing as forever, just an UNTIL. I’ve fallen into depression, a black hole of self-destruction (I have been here many times, so I know), and I’m fighting, the hardest I have EVER fought, to get out of this dark pit again…for my family.
What Real Faith Looks Like Now
I lost my will to sing after Jaden, and everyone who knows me will know the import of that statement. Singing is my life; it was how I communicated with God and how I primarily communicated with Jaden.
Losing my desire to sing indicates the extent of my brokenness, and it took months before I sang again. I snapped out of my head one day when I almost died from a piece of garlic…if you can believe that( story for another time). The result of that incident was damaged vocal cords, which showed me that not wanting to sing and not being able to sing are not the same.
Many weeks later, I heard my husband playing one of Jaden’s favourite songs (Brian McKnight song-WIN) on the piano. I went to sit next to him and just started singing, tears streaming down my face the whole time. When we were done with the song, my kids were crying on the couch, my husband’s face was wet, and we all just hugged each other, weeping for the longest time.
We went to my son, Jaden’s, grave soon after that incident. It was the first time since lockdown began that we were allowed to go. I thought I would feel closer to him when I was near him like that, but I didn’t feel him. I cried bitter tears for that. However, I realised that if Jaden really wasn’t here anymore, then I hoped with all of my heart that he was with God. Learning true faith through suffering made me hope that the wheelchair and pain that bound him here on earth would bind him no more in heaven.
To the Mom Who Is Hurting
I have now told you about the loss of my 16-year-old son, but I have lost two maybe-babies before. When I had Jaden, doctors suspected I carried twins, which was not confirmed, but suspected, as it had happened a generation before to my dad’s twin sister, Gwendelene. Then an ectopic pregnancy (my last pregnancy) that nearly cost my life, loss is loss, but there is no pain quite like a mother’s grief losing a child/children.
Only mothers who know that loss will know what we are talking about when we say we are broken. Let me tell you, finding God after tragedy is hard, I’m not gonna lie, but it’s not impossible. Faith and hope are both actions taken on things not seen. There is a certain courage and a different kind of strength needed to believe in both.
We are told that God heals your brokenness and makes you whole again, yes, HE can, and HE does; however, this is not the kind of brokenness they mean. People who imply that, I guarantee, have not gone through something like this before. Yes, God is still here, Yes HE will still use you with your broken wings, and yes, IF you can’t anymore, that’s okay because HE can.
Think on these two verses:
Hebrews 11:1: “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen”.
Romans 8:24–25: “For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have?”
So, mama, grieve however long you need to and feel like however you want to feel without guilt. God may not be a genie, but HE will always be your strength. It’s okay not to be okay…I’m here too, mama, if you need me.