I’m Putting My Faith in Science After My Son’s Diagnosis

I can’t put into words how gut-wrenching it was to receive my son’s sickle cell diagnosis. I had prayed fervently that he would be sickle-free, but alas, God had other plans. At least, that’s what my family and every other religious person told me.

But did God really have other plans, or did my genes just rear their ugly head?

As a person of African descent, I can’t fully explain how much religion rules the Black community and perhaps other ethnic communities.

Religion dictates our every move, whether it’s accepting a job, the way we dress, the type of food we can eat, how we relate to people, whom we can marry, and the list goes on.

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In our community, there’s always a religious explanation for everything that happens in daily life. In a nutshell, everything negative originates from the devil and everything positive from God. If a negative situation doesn’t perfectly fit the devil narrative, it’s either God’s way of testing your faith, punishing you for sin, or believing you can handle the task or situation at hand, which is why you’ve been given it.

While I’d resigned myself to that narrative in the past, I found myself pondering whether it made sense a few nights ago.

Why would God give us life-threatening situations to test us or because we can handle them? If it is a test, are there no other ways to test a person than by giving them constant, aggravating pain? What sort of cruel test is that?

Why would a loving God give a person something that affects their well-being just because the person can handle it? Why doesn’t God give them superhuman abilities to make the world a fairer, better place?

The narrative of God giving people situations to test them or because they can handle it makes absolutely no sense to me.

I’ve decided that I prefer to stick to science and accept that sickle cell was simply bad luck. The odds were not in my favor this time.

I had no choice about the genes I was dealt. In hindsight, I could have done other things to minimize or eliminate the risk of having a child with sickle cell.

I would like to say that I wouldn’t change a thing and would do it all over again, but that statement is a double-edged sword. My love for my son is unquestionable, but I would rather he didn’t have to deal with a chronic condition.

That said, maybe God gave us this situation to let us know that a chronic condition doesn’t define us. We can still live a fruitful, fantastic life despite the challenges we may face.

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