Ugly sounding words, but they are very much on my mind these days as we await our son’t DNA test results.
I’ve been reading a lot about genetics lately, as you can imagine.
I don’t understand everything, but I’ve learned this much:
A hereditary mutation, which seems to be what my baby boy has, is present in every cell of the body.
EVERY SINGLE CELL.
This hasty drawing I did for the the letter “G” represents a lot of anger that I have.
God could fix this if He wanted to, and yet, I feel like He, himself, has shattered my hopes; crushing my heart with His own hand.
Dear friends of faith, don’t feel like you need to comment with some encouragement or “it’ll all work out” type sentiment.
The truth is, unless God does a miracle, it’s not going to work out.
Something the Chaplain told me in the hospital has been comforting in a wierd way.
She said much of how God works and what His will is will always be a MYSTERY.
I think that’s the only answer I’m going to get.