Let me preface this post. I have an app in my phone where I take notes about my life. They are random and rambling. But sometimes useful. This is an edited excerpt from some of those ramblings.
We have had a sickly winter to say the least. In out home we have suffered from the common cold, influenza, pneumonia, and most recently the baby had bird flu. Unfortunately, Ks pneumonia landed him in the local pediatric hospital.
We have been in the hospital before. For the most part I felt prepared. I began began this journey calmly submitting to the will of the Father, knowing he knew what was best and that this trial would indeed be but a moment. But as the moments added up I grew impatient. My faith was shown to be thin. So I had to shore it up and try again. Rebuking myself for faltering despite the fact that The Lord has been proven in my life time and again.
Feeling blessed to have such a relatively healthy child there, I observed an interesting phenomenon of a pediatric hospital... And I couldn't help but think that their choice to call this hospital a castle was indeed appropriate.
Exhausted Parents toting duffle bags into The Castle. Ready to do battle slaying the dragons of fear and illness raging against their children. Sacrificing their sleep, sanity and well being at the altar of their children's health and security
At one point I left the hospital to the tears of my son. Crying that I wouldn't leave him. But I was so tired. It was dad's turn. I cried and I prayed with all my heart that he would be comforted in my absence. Immediately my phone dinged with a message.
"On our way to see K"
No sooner had I uttered the words, but my prayer was answered by a dear friend who would sit with my son until I changed my mind... Kissed my girls and returned to the hospital to resume my watch.
As I did the dance of splitting my attentions between three children, there was very little bedside vigil swapping. Daddy and I originally thought to trade the burdens back and forth between us. (Because I really did marry an incredible man and father!) But it wasn't to be. This gangly man child... So independent and active suddenly needs his mother with an inexplicable urgency. Almost as though his body and spirit, once so inseparably connected to mine, required it's life force once again to heal and be whole.
We were blessed. We had visitors, babysitters, supportive phone calls, meals and more. We made it home. And I chalk it all up to another faith muscle building excersize. Our father in heaven is good. Mindful of us... Our needs and desires. May I never forget.