I awoke to the song “Overwhelmed” by Big Daddy Weave this morning. Playing in my head, not on the radio.
I turned the computer on to type a few short sentences here and called up the song online. On Sunday when Cody had his third seizure, I had listened to it once but I didn’t actually watch the video.
Today is Thursday** and it appears to be my soundtrack for the day, so I watched the video.
It’s a beautiful song, overwhelming me with emotion and gratitude toward God.
The video documents the band’s trip to Tanzania, a place where I have traveled to as well. In 2004 I participated in a mission trip with my church to our partner village in rural Tanzania. Watching the video, I remembered that red dirt, knew it before they even identified where they filmed it. I remembered washed out bridges and severely rutted roads, some so bad that we actually had to get out of the van and walk down the hill as the driver maneuvered through the gullies in the red dirt.
Then I remembered coming home after the trip and being overwhelmed by the bread aisle in the grocery store. They don’t have flour mills and bread in rural Tanzania. Part of the mission trip included hosting students from our sister village at a university in Iringa, about 30 miles from their village but a 4 hour drive away. The university had a cafeteria and, by that point in the trip, I had to choke down the rice that was part of the meals – almost all of the meals.
But they also served bread at the university, whatever the equivalent of Tanzanian Wonder bread is. I remember one student walking past me in the cafeteria with 6 pieces of plain white bread piled on his plate…and nothing else. He also had slightly glazed eyes; I don’t think that was his first trip to the bread section.
A few weeks later, I literally stopped in my tracks when I turned down the bread aisle at my local grocery store. I had walked down that aisle for 5 years, barely paying attention to it. That first shopping trip back from Tanzania, I was awestruck. There must have been 50 feet of different types of bread! Have you ever actually paid attention to the bread aisle? To the abundance? It’s overwhelming.
But today, watching the video, I was truly overwhelmed by God, seeing video of children thrilled with the soap bubbles that the band had brought, the kids walking around in sandals if they had shoes at all, pictures of those fortunate enough to go to school – and I thanked God that my son has epilepsy here.
I wondered what it would be like for a child to have epilepsy in rural Tanzania, as tears welled up in my eyes.
The village I went to didn’t have running water or electricity to say nothing of EEGs and MRIs. They built an outhouse specifically for us; they didn’t have one for themselves. Rural Tanzania certainly doesn’t have epileptologists and anti-seizure medication. They didn’t even have toothbrushes and toothpaste until we brought them.
So watching the video today, I wondered, “Why am I fortunate enough to live in the US? Why was Cody fortunate enough to be born here?”
Americans too easily say we are blessed when we have the things we want or our lives go well. But I can’t say Cody being born here was a blessing because there are children born throughout the world who suffer from epilepsy. Does that mean they aren’t blessed? Am I blessed because God likes me better? Because I’m a better person or more deserving? No, I just can’t say I am more blessed than parents in Tanzania who have to watch their child suffer from seizures and have no access to treatment for them.
But I can be grateful. We live 20 minutes from a world class epilepsy center and minutes from multiple pharmacies that all stock Cody’s medications. The ambulances arrived within minutes of calling 911 after his first few seizures because the roads…well, roads exist here. He has the chance at a life despite having epilepsy.
How can I not be grateful for my son having epilepsy in the US?
NOTE:
**I left this post in the present tense because it flowed better but I wrote it years ago, just to clarify that Cody has not had a seizure this week.
I find I love God’s timing because yesterday was International Epilepsy Day – something I had never even heard of when I wrote this journal entry. Now I find God timed this post about Tanzania from over 6 years ago perfectly with a worldwide epilepsy day that brings awareness to the lack of care for much of the 65 million people who suffer from epilepsy worldwide.
If you or someone you know needs support in epilepsy, they can contact me or find resources at epilepsy.com.
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