I’ve never been one to adore hospitals, and Julia isn’t either. She continues to ask when she gets to go home. I wish I knew. But I’m hoping tomorrow.
Tomorrow we’re getting back her extensive labwork. I’m hoping this will give us some answers.
Today the headaches were awful (highest pain on the scale). It’s excruciating to watch your child moan and weep. I truly want to take it all from her in a flash. I’d much rather hurt than have her hurt.
I received this picture today from someone who was giving a talk in Alaska. Apparently I made it into the presentation, a quote from Everything. The timing is uncanny. My words coming back to haunt me in the best possible way. Faith words. Good words. God words.
Cue circumstantial artsy music here.
I’m reminded of this sweet verse:
I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the LORD In the land of the living. Psalm 27:13.
God is good. So good. He’s surrounded us with amazing friends. He loves us. He saw the pain of humanity, and it grieved Him so much that He willingly took it all on. He carried our sorrows and grief. He bore the weight.
Yet it was our weaknesses he carried;
it was our sorrows[a] that weighed him down.
And we thought his troubles were a punishment from God,
a punishment for his own sins!
5 But he was pierced for our rebellion,
crushed for our sins.
He was beaten so we could be whole.
He was whipped so we could be healed.
6 All of us, like sheep, have strayed away.
We have left God’s paths to follow our own.
Yet the Lord laid on him
the sins of us all. Isaiah 53:4-6
I understand a tiny bit. Seeing Julia like this makes me want to hop into her skin, eradicate the pain, steal it from her, and bear it. And He did that for every single one of us.
Julia is skyping with a friend. A giggle escapes her, a rare thing these past two days. I watched her friend visit today, become overwhelmed. She hugged Julia, crying. The tears came to me then. Watching empathy does that to a girl.
So it’s off to “bed” (term used loosely) hoping tomorrow brings an answer. Thank you for the beautiful, humbling gift of your prayers. I am not able to respond to emails right now, but I want you to know I read each one.