You hold the medicine in your hand, or you picture it in your mind’s eye, and your heart trembles a little. It is meant to help, yet you fear it may bring hurt. That is a parent’s lot: to love so deeply that every possible harm crowds in, each one feeling present and urgent. But I want you to remember, in this quiet moment, who it is that holds both you and your son. It is the Lord Jesus, the Great Physician, and His hand is gentler than any earthly father’s. He does not stand far off, indifferent to a mother’s ache. He draws near.
Think of that day in Capernaum when the Lord came into Peter’s house. It was a poor fisherman’s hut, nothing grand, but it became a palace because the King stepped over the threshold. And what did He find there but a woman burning with fever, great fever, the kind that made the house feel more like a hospital than a home. He did not shrink back. He came where the sickness was. He stood by the bed, took her by the hand, and the fever left her. She rose and began to serve Him. There was no fury in His touch, only power and peace. So with your son: the Lord Jesus is not a destroyer; He never comes to harm. His power is always a healing power. The same hands that were nailed for our sins are stretched out now to bless and to restore.
You have prayed that the injection will help and not harm. That is a prayer after the Father’s own heart, for He delights in the well-being of His children. The medicine itself is a common thing, a little liquid in a syringe, but faith sees it as part of His providence. He can make even such a simple means into a leaf from the tree of life, something that mends what is broken, soothes what is inflamed, and sets your boy’s body to rights again. We may well ask Him to sanctify the means, to overrule any bitter element, and to make the whole treatment a channel of mercy. And we may do so with confidence, because Christ’s power is present to heal. It has not grown tired over the centuries; it has not been exhausted by the millions He has already helped. There is enough for this child of yours, today.
Perhaps what gnaws at you most is the thought of side effects, that the very thing designed for good might become a fresh affliction. It is a natural fear, but do not let it grow so large that it hides the face of your Lord. Remember the poor man who was paralyzed and let down through the roof at Jesus’ feet. He had no power to move a limb, yet his heart was full of trust. And what did Jesus say to him first? “Man, your sins are forgiven you.” Then, later, “Arise, take up your bed, and go home.” The order is beautiful and full of comfort. Forgiveness came before healing, and it was the deeper gift. The Lord was doing something far more wonderful than mending a body: He was giving peace to a soul. Now, I am not saying your son’s trouble is tied to some particular sin; I do not know, and I would not wound you with careless words. But I am saying this: the same Lord who forgave that man holds your boy in His heart, and He knows what He is doing. Even if the road goes through a valley of shadows, He is there, and His rod and staff will comfort you both. No serious side effect can separate your son from the love of Christ. The thing you dread, even if it came, would find the Lord already present in the room, like He was in Peter’s house, like He was in the crowded chamber where the paralytic descended. He does not flee from our troubles; He meets them.
You are not holding your son up by the strength of your own prayers, as though the weight of him rested on your arms alone. No, Jesus carries both of you. A mother’s heart will always feel the strain, but underneath are the everlasting arms. Sometimes the best thing we can do with a fear is to turn it into a petition and then leave it there, in the place of mercy. You have done that: you have laid your request before the throne, in Jesus’ name. Now let the peace of God, which passes all understanding, garrison your mind. When the anxious thought rises again, simply point to where you left your burden and say, “I have deposited that with the Lord; He will see to it.”
Let me pray with you now, not as one who has no need of the same grace, but as a fellow-suppliant at the mercy seat.
O Lord Jesus, You who are the same yesterday, today, and forever, look tenderly upon this mother and her son. The medicine is in Your hand; we ask that You would bless it to his body and shield him from every harmful effect. Let it be nothing but good to him, and let him rise from this treatment stronger and full of health. Quiet these fluttering fears. Make this home, however humble, a palace because You are in it. And grant that both parent and child, in whatever days lie ahead, may prove that Your power is present to heal and that Your mercy endures forever. Into Your dear keeping we commit this whole matter, trusting not in the syringe or the doctor, but in You who are the very Son of God and the Lover of our souls. Amen.