For years, I hated God.
He was a mean man. God watched my son suffer from severe autism, OCD, epilepsy, bipolar, extreme anxiety and other disorders. No matter how much I begged God to give my son a miracle, the mean man was silent.
Kyle continued to suffer for twenty more years. As he grew, he became violent, throwing household objects. I felt like I was living with an atomic bomb that could go off at any time.
Bitterness was eating my soul. The curse words that came out of my mouth when I was talking to God while driving alone to the grocery store were shocking. I hated Him for letting my son suffer so much.
The medical community had given up on our son, and my husband and I had no one to help us. Kyle had lost 80lbs and refused to eat. He smeared feces from floor to ceiling every day. Life felt unbearable.
My son was very sick and had lost 80lbs.
We needed a miracle. But God seemed to have disappeared.
One morning, I woke up early, and as I was spewing at God, he showed me a young man named Victor who had developed paraplegia overnight. Victor had also lost his sight and his ability to speak or eat. But he could move a couple of fingers and sign to his parents. He told them he loved God and wanted to honour Him in his suffering.
As I read Victor’s story on my computer, the Holy Spirit came over me and opened my hardened heart. God showed me how I was only willing to love him if he gave my son a miracle. Victor was ready to love God even though he had lost everything.
I sat with tears streaming down my face, begging God to forgive me for hating him. I devoted my life to Jesus Christ that day, and my world changed.
In the past, I was angry while cleaning up Kyle’s feces. Now I mopped with joy and a song in my heart. I praised God on my most challenging days. Slowly, Kyle got better, and life improved. He gained back his weight and stopped smearing feces. (Read more about our family and autism: here)
Then, one day, we met Jazmin. My son had fallen in love with her. Jazmin was nineteen and was terminally ill with cancer. She had auburn hair, brown eyes and long, thick eyelashes. Jazmin was beautiful.
She talked of miracles. My heart squeezed tightly. I wasn’t going to do this again. I made it my goal to help Jazmin accept that she was dying. Miracles were not an option. I loved this young woman wholeheartedly; our whole family loved Jazmin.
Eythan and Jazmin were married in a beautiful ceremony. Two years into their marriage, they had to move in with us so we could help care for Jazmin. She was down to 65 lbs and still talked about a miracle.
I fell into deep pre-mourning as I watched my daughter-in-law fade into nothing. When I hugged her, she was just bones in my arms. Her bedside table was full of drugs. She could no longer walk, and she was on oxygen.
My depression was thick, and I felt like I was walking through deep, dark water that would drown me at any moment.
One morning, as I cried out to God, He told me he wanted me to hop on Jazmin’s hope train. So, I packed up my mourning as God filled me with joy and helped Jazmin believe that she was going to get a miracle.
I hung onto that hope and joy until Jazmin breathed her last breath. Jazmin lived with an incredible love for God and got to the point where she surrendered her miracle to God. A few days before she died, she raised her arms to God in praise.
If God had not healed my heart years before, I would have been so angry at him when Jazmin died. But I went on to praise and love God even more.
I share Jazmin’s story in my book, Suitcases from Heaven. Get it: here
If you are angry at God for allowing one of your loved ones to suffer or die, I would encourage you to read Suitcases from Heaven. This story will help heal your heart and draw you closer to God.
