Circus, Circus

Lately my life has felt like a three-ring circus. One crazy, freaky event after another. In the first ring is Tavin’s unknown stomach ailment; in the second ring is our lack of finances; and in the center ring is my mom’s deadly cancer. Each thing keeps taking it’s turn in one ring or another, but always making a debut in the center ring.
We’ve been cooped up in this house for months, unable to do anything. Recently we were incredibly blessed with some extra money, so we decided to do something fun for ourselves. The circus was coming to town and Groupon offered a deal we couldn’t refuse.

Since Tavin’s colonoscopy and EGD last week, we prayed that Tavin would feel well enough to make it through the big event. We had a good day on Tuesday, then Wednesday was awful. Yesterday morning was okay, but then he was in enough pain that he couldn’t even nap. We were a bit concerned about taking him to the circus, but we didn’t want to let it stop us. Being stuck in the house because you’re broke is one thing, but not being able to go anywhere for fear your child will end up on the floor writhing in pain is entirely different.

So we splurged on McDonald’s and Tavin ate well. He was incredibly excited for the circus, since I had shown him some videos to prepare him. He kept clapping his hands and then rubbing them quickly together to show his enthusiasm. “What will we see at the circus, Tavin?” I’d ask. And he grin wide and say, “Tigoors. Elfants. Cwouns!” And then he’d laugh hysterically.

So our trip to MickeyD’s was good. The trip up to Milwaukee was great. But the second we pulled in front of U.S. Cellular Stadium, his pain began. He began to panic and cry, holding onto to his tummy. The look in his eyes was heartbreaking. He knew what this meant: that we wouldn’t be able to enjoy the circus.

When we were waiting to get our tickets, Tavin at one point collapsed on the floor in pain. I immediately held him close and prayed in his ear: “Lord Jesus, just give us this one night. Just let him enjoy this. Give him this. After all he’s gone through, please give him comfort and peace tonight. Let him experience some fun again!” And he was fine for the rest of the night!



I’m not sure what’s afflicting my poor baby, but I do know our prayers are working. It hasn’t been an overnight success, but I was recently reminded of Daniel’s story. He had been praying and fasting for 21 days and saw no results from his prayer. On the 24th day, Daniel was greeted by an angel who told him this:

"Do not be afraid, Daniel. Since the first day that you set your mind to gain understanding and to humble yourself before your God, your words were heard, and I have come in response to them. But the prince of the Persian kingdom resisted me twenty-one days. Then Michael, one of the chief princes, came to help me, because I was detained there with the king of Persia” (Daniel 10:12-13).

Whether we believe it or not, outside of our natural sight is a spiritual warfare beyond anything we can imagine. Our lives are at stake everyday, but we have been promised by God that we are surrounded by angels who protect us. We may not see instant gratification from our prayers, but God heard us the second we cried out to Him and immediately sent our answer. Those angels dispatched to our rescue are going through literal hell to reach us. It’s no different than Rescue Missions in war. It may not happen right away, but help IS on its way.

We also need to remember that this is not our battle, but God’s. In the midst of a terrible battle, Jahaziel did something unique that provided him with a great victory. He knelt down and prayed. While he did that, the rest of the congregation “praised God at the top of their lungs” (2 Chronicles 20:19).

“As soon as they started shouting and praising, God set ambushes against the men of Ammon, Moab, and Mount Seir as they were attacking Judah and they all ended up dead…God had given them JOYFUL relief from their enemies!” (2 Chronicles 20:22, 27).

Joyful relief. That’s what we need.

Some people may not believe in spiritual warfare, or believe that what’s happening to our son is a demonic attack. But why is it then, that at every moment of joy he gets to encounter, it’s somehow quickly ripped away from him. Those instances just seem to obvious to be coincidental.

When we got home, Tavin had an incredibly rough night. Night terrors. Screaming. Fear. Crying. Coughing. Stuffy nose. All night. He finally got some rest at 6 AM and slept until 10:30 AM.

Monday morning Tavin will be getting a bone scan done at Children’s Hospital. They will be looking for Discitis and Osteomyelitis. These two things can be easily resolved through simple antibiotics. I’m not wishing any harm on my child, but I need answers and resolutions soon. One more day of his pain is too long for him to keep enduring. So we are praying for real answers. We are praying for our angels to keep fighting our battle and win quickly.

I’m desperate for our days to be more like moments like these: