When Answers Don't Come. . .

I've been up much of the night with a 10-year old with a toothache. The complaining started Friday night (after the dentist's office was closed, of course), but it didn't seen too bad, and I was hoping that we could keep it under control until Monday morning. He was still complaining on Saturday, but not often enough for me to think it was really serious, and he was able to keep the pain under control by swishing water over it. As Saturday wore into the evening he got progressively worse and by bedtime, I realized that we might not have a bedtime. For anyone who might not know, it is virtually impossible to get dental help between 7 p.m. Saturday night, and 9 am Monday morning. Even the urgent care places tell you to call the emergency room, who, I found out, will just give you a shot to numb it until you can get to your dentist. Not being able to find anyone to help us, I had my husband give him a blessing, which he did. I was praying over and over that he'd be able to go to sleep, and we were trying all the home remedies we knew of but nothing seemed to help. As midnight approached and then faded into a memory, the questions started to come. . .Why isn't Heavenly Father helping him? What reason can there be for a 10-year-old to be suffering? Aren't my prayers good enough? & etc. I remembered the hairbrush incident (see previous post), reminding myself that He has answered my prayers in the past. Finally around 2 a.m. he stayed in bed and I drifted off to sleep, grateful for the respite.
The next morning around 7, I was awakened by his screaming in pain, once again. My questions about prayer re-surfaced, and my thoughts were taken back to an experience I had a couple of weeks previous. A friend has been going through some tough times with children who don't always make the best choices. As we were talking about this, it occurred to us that if we were going to exhibit faith in our prayers, we needed to continue to trust, even when things weren't turning out the way we thought they should. I applied that to this situation, and started saying to myself, "Heavenly Father is in charge. I can trust Him to take care of this situation." I immediately felt the burden become lighter, and I realized that my questioning and doubting had been creating a negative energy that was possibly blocking my ability to get answers. The night before when my son was in so much pain, I read that ibuprofen can be given to ease the pain. As we hardly ever use drugs, I'm always nervous about giving them to children, so we didn't give him any that night. Finally, in the morning, I gave in to the ibuprofen, as well as some herbs, which he took and then went in and put himself to bed, until early afternoon, when he woke up in pain, and we gave him some more. We were able to keep the pain at bay and make it through Sunday. Later that evening my husband told me that when he gave our son a blessing, he had blessed him that through his pain he would learn to feel compassion for others and not want to cause them pain. This child has a temper and we've been trying to figure out how to get him to stop hitting people when he gets provoked. So after all that, I realized that maybe there had been a reason that he had to go through the pain that night. As for me, hopefully I'll remember that Heavenly Father does hear and answer ALL of our sincere prayers, and that we can trust Him to answer them in the way and with the timing that is for our best. I want to get to the point where I can keep trusting without the doubting. It brings to mind a favorite poem:

I know not by what methods rare,
But this I know, God answers prayer.
I know that He has given His Word,
Which tells me prayer is always heard,
And will be answered, soon or late.
And so I pray and calmly wait.
I know not if the blessing sought
Will come in just the way I thought;
But leave my prayers with Him alone,
Whose will is wiser than my own,
Assured that He will grant my quest,
Or send some answer far more blest.
(Eliza M. Hickok, “Prayer,” Best Loved Religious Poems, ed. James Gilchrist Lawson, New York: Fleming H. Revell Company, 1933, p. 160.)