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Count it all joy.

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness.

This is our fighter verse for the week at our church. The book of James has always held a dear place in my heart. When I was younger, my dad memorized a few chapters from selected books of the bible with us. He memorized  Romans with the boys and  James with me. We didn't get through the whole book of James, but we came close.  Every night we'd recite from memory the verses we had learned. Those were precious nights for me and my dad. To this day whenever I read the book of James, I think of him. Because the book of James was so special to me, the name too has become dear (it's even cute when shortened to Jamie, at least I think so). I just happened to marry a guy whose middle name is James...and we've since used that middle name for our son, Simon. Simon James.  It's a very popular and somewhat overused middle name, but I don't care. It's a name that's dear to me and my husband, seeing as it's also his late Grandpa O'Malley's first name.

I thought the verse very fitting for today. Not that I'm going through a horrible spiritual trial, but I'm finding myself weak in knowledge and not knowing what to do for my son, who is for the first time in his 2.5 years of living, super sick. He's been sick before, but never to this extreme. It's hard taking care of a sick baby-child, when one can't explain what's going on and how one's feeling. He points to his open mouth when I ask where it hurts. I'm assuming that means he has a sore throat. I know from his flushed face/head/body that he's fighting a fever. I also know he has a drippy nose from the mound of used tissues and the gasps for breaths as he sips his water. His cough is deep and barky. His energy level has gone down quite a bit, but even still, today he had these bursts of energy that surprised us. It reassured us that he wasn't all sick and that a tiny part of his lively self was still there, fighting to break free of his sick body. I wish more than anything I could release his body of the war that's waging within. That I could trade my health for his sickness. It kills me seeing him so uncomfortable and scared. I hope his body will let him sleep tonight...so far, it doesn't look promising.

Please dear Jesus, heal my son's body.

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