"Help me daddy!"

I had a moment yesterday where I felt a fraction of how our Heavenly Father must feel for each one of his children. I thought about it a lot throughout the day and wanted to share it.
We had taken Kate down to Primary Children's Hospital to have her reflux tested. (Background) Kate has urinary reflux. Instead of her pee all coming out when she has a full bladder, some of it goes back up through the ureters to the kidneys, causing infection. We have to take her to get tests done to know whether or not she is outgrowing this. Kate has had this particular procedure done several times before but both when she was a baby. I knew that this was a harmless procedure, uncomfortable yes, but I knew what it entailed and that by going through with the test we would know if Kate needed to continue the antibiotics she has been taking since she was 6 months old.
I got Kate ready for the procedure, taking off her clothes and putting the cute little hospital gown on her, waiting for it to hit her that this was not anything she was use toand that we were use to. Nothing happened, mostly due to the fact that she got to pick out a movie to watch during the procedure. It wasn't until we started to lay her down on the X-ray table that she suddenly broke out into hysterics. I tried to calm her down but things were only getting worse. The x-ray tech was great, very comforting with her, talking to her, trying to calm her down as he put "seat belts" on her legs which were fastened to 2 plastic boards and then weighted her arms down with sand bags. As her crying started to get harder and her eyes were getting wider, I could only imagine how my sweet little Kate felt staring up at us while all this was going on, the whole time we, her parents just watching and doing nothing to stop it. Meanwhile all we could do as her parents was to hold her hands, kiss her face and tell her "It was going to be O.K." knowing that the worst part was yet to come...the catheter. It was at this point of Kate's uncontrollable sobs when she looks over at Jason and says "Help me daddy!" That was hard. Soon after that she started repeatedly saying "Hold me mommy!" Even though I knew that this would all soon be over it was so hard to not be able to do anything but watch her discomfort and just say "It will be O.K." How hard it was not to just take off the sand bags and hold her. I could see the big picture but she couldn't. She didn't know how long this discomfort was going to last. She didn't know why she was being weighteted down. She didn't understand why her parents watched and did nothing to take the pain away or make things a little bit easier. All we could do was watch and try to comfort her.
As a parent this was very hard. I knew this was the procedure of the test. It was hard knowing what was coming up and watching her eyes as they inserted the catheter. It was hard not being able to hold her as she cried out in pain. I knew that Kate had to go through with it in order to find out if she needed to continue her medication. I knew that it had to be done. It was still hard.
I started to think about our Heavenly Father and how he must feel this same way. How everyday he watches us, being able to see the whole picture. Knowing what we are about to go through. Knowing we won't understand, but needing to go through it just the same. I wonder how often he wants to just make our pain go away, to just take the sand bags off and make it a little bit easier. But he doesn't because he knows it is for our own good and it is something we have to go through. It is part of the test.
I know for me the feeling I had when I finally got to pick Kate up and hold her after it was all over brought such a flood of emotions. To have her back in my arms again. For her to know that she was safe and that she wasn't going to go through any more pain. Gratitude.
I am so grateful for a loving Heavenly Father who is always with me, even though he can't physically hold me, he holds my hand through the hard tests, he tells me everything is going to be O.K. He aches for me when I am struggling. He cries when I cry, and I know that when I am done with this test called life, he is going to pick me up in his arms and there will be no words to describe that feeling.