Love is patient, Love is kind...

Well after 5 solid days of high fevers, headaches, diarrhea and nausea, my sweet little Finny is finally on the mend. He came down with some nasty bug last Thursday, and was completely thrown for a loop until well into Monday afternoon. He'd flirt with low 100-101 temperatures for much of the daytimes, especially with ibuprofen running through his system, but every night he'd shoot right back up to the mid to high 103's, even measuring as high as 105. He ate next to nothing. He hardly left the couch. He sobbed through what must have been some really intense headaches for such a little man.

He was such a trooper and hardly complained at all. But by the time Tuesday morning rolled around and he wake fever free and finally ready to begin the recovery process, he was a wasted, broken little boy.

It's been a rough week this week. Honestly, with Finny, the recovery from illness is always harder on everyone (including him) than the sickness itself. He seems to do fine being wiped out, zonking on the couch with heavy doses of drinks in straw cups, videos, books and some coloring thrown in for fun. But come the day when he must rise from his stupor and actually accomplish anything whatsoever and it is as though the sky is falling every.single.time something doesn't go his way.

I know he physically cannot control himself in many ways. I know his little body struggles even on the best of days to maintain a sense of normalcy and balance that most of us take for granted. Sensory Processing Disorder is not something that he does on purpose just to make life difficult for himself and those he loves.

But can I just admit something here?

Man is it hard to maintain compassion and patience through a day (or two or three) of a five and a half year old boy whining, complaining, arguing, fussing, grumbling, withering, crying, whimpering and generally grumping through every single moment. I am thankful beyond words for my three other children who have been beyond patient and compassionate as they watch their brother fall to the floor in a heap of misery every time he has to, say, I don't know, choose a spoon to eat the pudding treat he should be thankful to be given. And I am thankful that I was blessed with enough patience and kindness to get through the day without just locking him in his room and putting earplugs in. But man, it took everything in me to not completely lose my cool with that boy. Actually, it took more than I had, which is where God stepped in and took over my own human will and weaknesses.

So I just wanted to vent that here. I love Finny more than I can say. He struggles, yes, but his struggles hit parts of my heart that I cannot even fathom being touched by anyone else. I ache to watch him suffer (and he has suffered more than all my other children combined in his short little life). But I just love him beyond reason. And yes, the past two days have been hard. I know he's lost a few pounds. I know he's weak and tired and his body has been thrown completely out of balance with the fevers and lack of nutrition over the many days of his very difficult flu. And I know that with patience, consistency, love and a whole lot of his OT exercises and some extra doses of sweetness on my part that we will see our sweet boy emerge again in a few days.

Sigh. But man, it's a stretch for me.

Thank you Lord. For Finny. For patience. For the grace You've shown me that has taught me how to show grace to others. For three other loving and patient children who know when to step back to let a brother in need get whatever it is he needs from me. And for the 12 hour break while he sleeps so I can ready myself (and You can fill me up with more of your grace and patience...) for yet another healthy day...