The Hardest Question

It was an ordinary morning.  We had eaten breakfast, gotten dressed and brushed teeth.  Mackenna was standing in front of her mirror as I brushed and braided her hair.  I glanced up at her face in the mirror and saw that something was wrong.  Her eyes were big and glossy, her mouth twisted strangely as she tried not to frown.  I put the brush down and turned her around as her tears started to fall.

“What’s wrong, Sweetheart?”

“Why am I the only girl in our family with diabetes?”

There it was.  She’d lived with type 1 diabetes for over a year now and had not uttered this question once before.  I think the question she asked was more specific than the bigger question she really wanted answered.  She really just wanted to know why she had diabetes.  Not the medical reason, her question was bigger than that.  Why had God chosen to let her have type 1 diabetes?

The. Hardest. Question.

I knew she’d ask someday.  I figured the question would have come when diabetes was being painful or annoying.  Like when she had to do a sensor or infusion set change…bigger pokes that hurt a little more.  Or when she’d have to sit on the sidelines, waiting for her blood sugar to rise, while her friends or brothers played.  But today nothing like that prompted her inquiry.  It really just came from her sweet little 5-year-old heart.  And even though I knew she’d ask someday, I had never really come up with a good answer.  And now it was go-time.  I silently prayed, “Jesus, give me the words.”

“Oh Sugar Booger, I don’t know why you’re the only girl in our family with diabetes.  But I do know that you’re also the only girl in our family who loves horses and unicorns.  I know that you’re the only girl in our family that can wiggle her ears.  I know that you’re the only girl in our family who is the bravest of the brave.  And I know that God doesn’t make mistakes.  So since He chose to let you have diabetes, then I believe He is going to use you and your story, your courage and your joy, to bless people, and to glorify Him.  I think He’s writing a really brave and beautiful story with your life.  Do you believe that?”

She didn’t hesitate, “Yeah, I do.” And I wiped her tears.  And she smiled.  And I held her for a minute before tending to her hair again.

Once her hair was done and she headed downstairs to play with her brothers, I collapsed on my bed.  Through big ugly tears, I sobbed the same question.  “Why God?  Why her?  This is too hard.  Why did it have to be her?”  And I heard my the same words find their way back to me, speaking to my heart this time and not hers.

“Oh Stacey.  I know it’s hard to understand, but remember, I don’t make mistakes.  I’ve chosen to let her have diabetes and I am going to use her story, her courage and her joy, to bless people and to glorify My Name.  I’m writing a brave and beautiful story with her life.  Do you believe that?”

Yes.  I do.

“For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.”  (Romans 8:18 ESV)

Mackenna, age 5