When it can’t be made “all better”

He was red and sore. He cried and whimpered. The gastro flu had not been kind to his diaper region.

I gently applied the oils and creams, but it wasn’t the quick fix that he so wanted.

I want you to make it all better! he cried.

I tried to explain to him that there was no instant fix – that healing takes time. We repeated this process twice before bed and once again at 3am. The same whimpers and cries. The same wishing-I-could-do-more explanations.

I rocked and soothed before bed and for the better part of an hour in the middle of the night. That’s all I could do. My warmth, my love did little to take his pain away; but somehow it made the whimpering and crying stop all the same. It was instinctive for both of us – instinctive for him to reach for my arms in spite of the pain, instinctive for me to comfort and soothe him in spite of my inability to heal.


The hurts and pains upon our hearts make us cry and whimper and we just want it to be all better. But healing takes time. We can apply salves and healing oils for our wounded emotions – they take many forms and vary from person to person. And they can help.

But then there is the waiting. The times when, like the little boy just lying on his bed whimpering, we have no choice but to be still and simply wait for it to feel all better.

Do we turn to the arms of the Father? Do we cry to him about our desires for healing? Do we crawl up on His lap in spite of our pain? Or do we stay wounded and alone, thinking that, because He can’t immediately make it all better, He’s not worth our time? Can we experience Divine soothing and love in spite of our pain? Or do we shut Him out because He’s not giving us what we want, when we want it?

Even though You reign high above us
You tenderly love us
We know Your heart
And we rest in who You are

Even if the healing doesn’t come
And life falls apart
And dreams are still undone
You are God, You are good
Forever faithful One
Even if the healing
Even if the healing doesn’t come

One thought on “When it can’t be made “all better”

  1. Pingback: Little hands in a coffee shop | Beautiful In His Time

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