I gave myself an emergency pep talk and recited what I knew to be true, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. I can do all things....”

Like a child doing an errand she wasn’t up for, I grabbed my purse, locked the car, and found my way inside the store. The layout of the store was different from what I was used to. Uncertain where to find what I needed, I decided to walk up and down each aisle.

Soon I was holding a box of cereal, reading the label, trying to figure out the carbohydrate count and sugar content. Would three-fourths a cup of cereal fill Jenna up? Not finding any “sugar free” cereal, I grabbed a box of Kellogg’s Corn Flakes and continued shopping. Pausing, I turned back. Do I still buy Fruit Loops for Jason? I hadn’t even thought how Jenna’s diagnosis might affect Jason, my typical four-year-old. Is it okay if he has a box of Fruit Loops while Jenna eats Kellogg’s Corn Flakes?

Eventually I walked down the canned fruit and juice aisle. Yes, I need apple juice, but, how much? Just how often will Jenna’s sugar “go low”so she will need this lifesaving can of juice? Will a six-year-old actually know when her blood sugar is dropping? What if...? I began to ask myself again.

I held the can of apple juice and began to read the label. Jenna will need fifteen carbohydrates of juice when her sugar drops. But this can has thirty-two. Immediately I could see my hand begin to tremble. I tried to steady the can and reread the label when I felt tears leave my eyes and make their way down the sides of my face. Not knowing what to do, I grabbed a couple six-packs of apple juice and placed them in my cart.

Frustrated by feelings of total inadequacy, I crumpled up my grocery list, covered my face in my hands and cried.—beliefnet.com