He was running a fever. My ‘mom-gut’ told me it was nothing major, no need for a doctor’s visit or concern. He needed rest.
He took a long nap in my bed. Peaceful. Content. Safe.
Not for a second was I worried that his fever would turn into something else. I wasn’t worried that the fever would never go away. I didn’t think twice about it.
And then, I did.
I sat on the bed next to him and just wept over him. I thought of so many moms in Liberia and West Africa. I thought of the fear that must wash over them right now at any sign of childhood illness. How a fever to them could be their greatest fear. I thought of their pain. I sat and watched my feverish son sleep peacefully. Ebola was not a concern. I was not worried that he would wake up and begin throwing up and then start showing signs for a disease taking 1000s of lives. I wasn’t worried that I was going to lose him. It feels unfair - a mom should not worry death looms at the sign of a fever. My little guy woke up. Fever gone soon. He was back running around, jumping on the trampoline, playing with chickens and just being a kid. And I was just being a mom enjoying him. And I wept at how easily I take so much of my life for granted.
My heart is aching for my friends in Liberia. For the people of West Africa.
I think about my new friends in neighboring Ghana, about their villages, about their communities.
Everywhere I look people are hurting. Some are on tv. Some I saw yesterday. Some are reading this blog.
Some I know their hurt. Others face pain silently.
The world is full of those that want to take down others – whether with guns, words or actions.
Often those wanting to take down others are hurting as much as the ones they want to take down.
I can’t stop the Ebola outbreak. I can’t fight cancer for a friend. I can take my heart break and find a way to use it. I can be one that builds others up instead of taking them down. I can be one that doesn’t dig to find that one terrible thing about someone. Instead, I can search for the good and celebrate it in the people around me. I can look at the simplest parts of my day with gratitude. I can choose to look and listen to the cries of the world around me and help my children see those things too. I can choose to see. I can choose to love. I can choose to let that love take action.
Today I am going to find an action of love to take and I am going to do it.
*Poster found at Help Ink