“What happened?” I asked, rushing over to my youngest son.
5-year-old Kaleb had run into my bedroom crying, with blood streaming from his forehead, straight down the center of his face. The large red blotches on his white tee rapidly multiplied as bright crimson drops gathered and escaped from beneath his chin. The scene was dramatic.
“I-I-I—“
Initially, he couldn’t say any intelligible words while heaving. After I stroked and calmed my blood-covered son a bit, Kaleb was then able to explain that he had bumped his head. I saw him searching my face for any signs of fear. Though I was thinking, "What in the world--" I knew my reaction would fuel his reaction, so I stayed calm.
I needed to get a closer look at the wound hidden beneath that river of red--quickly. So I took Kaleb into the bathroom, got a clean cloth, ran some cold water, and began gently wiping away the blood. The crowd of spectators made up of his three other siblings —Kyla, Kaiah, and Kedar—stood looking shocked and repulsed by the gory scene.
My main focus was properly assessing the seriousness of the injury to my sweet boy’s noggin. Would my little guy need to be taken to the ER to be stitched up? Was there any serious head trauma I should be concerned about?
I monitored Kaleb's behavior closely and didn’t notice any red flags. He was responsive and alert, and his anguished cries had turned into soft whimpers. After about a minute (It felt more like an hour.) I was able to see the tiny nick in the skin causing the profuse bleeding.
It was such a small, superficial wound.
“He’s alright,” I announced to his worried sisters and brother, who were frozen like statues with mortified expressions. The looks on their faces conveyed everything I was feeling inside. “It looks worse than it is, see?” I reassured them all. They walked over slowly and hesitantly, as a single unit, to examine the shallow cut. Collectively, the Hobbs kids breathed sighs of relief. Smiles replaced frowns and laughter filled the atmosphere that had been eerily silent only moments ago.
I applied pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding; cleaned and dressed it; hugged and kissed my miniature patient; changed his blood-stained t-shirt; and sent him on his way. He was perfectly fine, although things looked pretty bad at first; head wounds tend to bleed an awful lot—even minor ones.
Thankfully, I didn’t throw a fit over what turned out to be a tiny skin puncture. I must admit, if this same situation would have occurred in my early parenting days, this would have been a very different blog post.
I'm sure you can remember a time when you had a major meltdown over a minor issue that looked worse than it was. I suppose we all, at some point, have forgotten that outward manifestations are not always accurate depictions of the reality of a given situation.
Smoke doesn’t necessarily mean fire; blood doesn’t always mean serious injury; storm clouds don’t definitely mean torrential rains will follow.
That’s why waiting for the conclusion of a matter, before drawing conclusions, is so important. It helps minimize the unnecessary panic, worry, anxiety, and stress that can easily overtake our lives. This is something God has been helping me with as I face my own storms.
Right now, I’m stirring some “anti-panic serum” in your cup of inspiration. That’s what I’ve been sipping on, because constantly being worked up over every sign of trouble, is simply exhausting. When the “serum” kicks in, instead of panicking, you’ll say this:
When it’s all said and done, whatever the issue is, God, the Omniscient One, knew about it before I ever confronted it. He knew how it would end before it ever started. And He knew exactly how to carry me through the test before I ever stepped into my season of testing. Whether the issue is great or small, I serve THE GREATEST God who has the power to sustain me through it all.
At the end of the day, only God knows the end from the beginning. If we begin blindly trying to predict, interpret, and project what will happen in the future, we will drive ourselves nearly mad. So, just give it over to the Lord. The battle is not yours anyway. It belongs to our God.
TODAY’S PRAYER: God, when situations look bad, I am tempted to give into worry, fear, and panic. In times of uncertainty, please help me not to focus on the uncertainty of my situation, but rather, on the faithfulness of You, oh Lord. For You are the only one who can carry me through my tests, whether great or small. I thank You now for peace, joy, and comfort through these trials. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
