My son is fighting for his life. The FDA doesn’t seem to care.
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I’m just a mom. But we recently celebrated Easter, where a carpenter saved the world. He overcame the establishment of His time, which was willing to throw the vulnerable and sick to the side. He fell, but He didn’t falter — I hope to follow His example.
As we were approaching Holy Thursday this year, Ryu was having a hard evening. He needed his Bipap machine to help his lungs function, as he so often does. But he looked at me — my 14-year-old wheelchair-bound boy who is the happiest kid I know — and said, “Mom, this sucks. But what you’re doing makes it a lot easier.”
My story may not matter to FDA Commissioner Makary, who seems to have forgotten about Ryu and thousands of other kids like him. But God sees every hair on our heads. He named us before our parents knew us. And sometimes, like Gabriel told the prophet Daniel, prayers are answered long before we see their fruition.
I’ve been saying the same prayer for help and to be able to lend my voice for over 40 years. To the world, Antonio and Angelo may be long deceased, but they are the foundation for how my husband and I have cared for Ryu. And God has allowed me to carry their stories from my home in El Paso to our nation’s capital.
Commissioner Makary and Dr. Prasad may have forgotten that their job is to save lives, but God seems to have different plans. He’s just getting started with me in spreading His good news, and so far it has been amazing.
But I’m also not surprised, because I knew God would take care of it all.
Editor’s note: This article was originally published in the Christian Post.
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