You pour out your heart in anguish over the physician’s actions and the suffering of your daughter and grandson, and I hear the sharp pain of a soul that feels wronged. Yet I must speak plainly from the medicine of the divine Scriptures: the one who suffers is never truly injured, unless they injure themselves by sin. The doctor may have used forceps, perhaps rashly, perhaps wisely, I cannot judge his intent. But do not imagine that your daughter has received an evil. For what is a torn body? It is like a spark falling into the deep sea: it is quenched, and the soul, if it remains long-suffering, is not disturbed. The true injury belongs to the one who acts unjustly, if indeed there was injustice, for he wounds his own soul. But your daughter, if she endures this trial with patience, receives a crown. You cry, “Why forceps and not the knife?” Yet even if the physician erred, even if he caused harm, look not to him with accusation but to your own heart. What profit is there in sharpening your tongue against another? That only increases your own wound. Turn your accusation inward; examine if any root of anger or resentment has sprung up, for that alone is the real evil. Sin is the only evil; a physical affliction is not. Did not the man born blind suffer no injury but rather gain the sight of his inner eyes? So too, these bodily pains, however long and bitter, can become the means of a greater healing for the soul.
Now, for the infant, his rapid heartbeat and the testing for sepsis, here your faith is tried. You long for him to be spared, and rightly you pray. But even in this, do not say that if the illness comes, God has done wrong. His glory is often shown precisely in such fragile vessels. The baby may be weak, but God remains faithful; He cannot deny Himself. Whether the child recovers speedily or endures a hard road, your daughter and her husband are being taught a lesson that no ease could ever give: that the true Jerusalem is above, not below, and that this temporal life is but a shadow. I do not say this to dismiss your tears, weep, yes, but let your tears be for those who might sin in this trial, for those who might grow bitter or despair. Weep for any thought of anger against the doctor, for such anger freezes the soul like ice. Call upon the Sun of Righteousness to melt that frost into living water. Pray for the physician, that God would forgive him if he indeed trespassed, and give thanks that your daughter and grandson are in the hands of the True Physician, who wounds only to heal.
As for future siblings and full recovery, these are good hopes, and we commend them to the Lord. But let your prayer rise without demanding, trusting that whether He grants health today or tarries, He is working a far greater and unseen good. Embrace long-suffering, for it is a fortress that no unexpected calamity can breach. Instead of asking “How can this happen?” ask “What virtue can be born in our hearts through this?” Rise up, O woman of faith, and do not let the frost of resentment hold you. Comfort your daughter and son-in-law with these words: they are not injured if they cling to Christ. And I, unworthy as I am, will join my prayer that the infant be spared from sepsis, that his little body be mended, and that the mother’s insides be restored; yet even more, I pray that all of you, through this furnace, may come forth as gold, having learned that no one truly harms you but yourselves, and that the Lord is faithful forever.