I don't know what to do with him.
He is up to two naps a day because he is so tired.
He is almost 6 years old.
This shouldn't be.
I have to be careful which room I put him in because he is so destructive.
He will throw and break things.
He's become violent when crossed.
He is big enough now that he can actually hurt me.
When he has the screaming fits it helps if I just hold him...
but what I really want to do is push him away.
Lock him in a room alone.
Leave the house.
It hurts my heart so badly to see him like this.
If it were up to me I'd leave here so fast.
Run away someplace where my child won't be sick.
It's not up to me.
Why did God send us to a mission field and then give us a child who can't be healthy here?
He knew Jason would be sick in Wales long before we did.
I don't understand.
Jason, my son, my sweet baby boy is gone.
I miss him.
I miss who he can be and isn't.
Jason,
I'm so sorry.
We are suppose to take care of you,
but we have not and you are suffering.
I do love you.
Please come back to us.
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