Good Friday

The Friday playlist is on hold until next week....instead I'm posting something I wrote about this time last year:

My kids are sick alot. The topic makes frequent blog posts. We have toured the local ERs, we have had staples in the head and glued up a gaping chin. We have had specialists, and PT, and Xrays, many many breathing treatments and even one extended stay. We even spent four long months in a helmet.

But right now seems like an all time low.


Which isn't nearly as scary as it sounds.
We aren't in a hospital.
O seems mostly fine.
An icky cough, a nagging fever
But people die from pneumonia.
And this is the second time this season that he has had it.
The damn internet has me convinced that he has some kind of autoimmune disease or cancer or worse. And my friends drop less than subtle hints that maybe he should be tested.

Other than worried mom mode and about 100$ worth of drugs.
It is a normal night in the Hurst household.
Shaun went to a movie. (ok, that isn't normal, rather a rare treat)
I worked on some lesson plans and made bottles for the next day.
Tess had a crying jag and then entertained herself with her newfound ability to roll over.
O ran around crazy, destroyed the house and then retired to my bed to watch cartoons. (just imagine what kind of damage this kid can do healthy!)
But I have this constant urge to squeeze him. Hug him and hold him and hope that he is ok.

I have this fear in the pit of my stomach.
I want someone to promise me that this will pass.
That it is no big deal. That our turns getting sick this season are over.
But we aren't promised anything. It is all a gift. Every sweet second. I struggle with this. I struggle with the fact that I am not promised a first day of kindergarden or a first date or a high school graduation or a wedding or grandbabies or even tomorrow. Not only do our kids come sans instruction manual but they also come without a warranty.
I want to reassure myself. Tell myself that a good and loving God will make sure he gets better. A good God will protect my son. A good God will keep him safe.

.......but. gulp.
we are not promised safe.
God's good is a much bigger and broader definition than our own.
which is kind of hard to swallow especially when you are talking about my kid.
My sweet and feverish son.

and also when you are talking about His.

(scriptures for what happened on that Friday: Luke 18:2-19:42
and a prologue: O got better, only to come down with a nasty case of shingles on Easter Sunday ...but this year has been so much healthier!)


Corinne said...

Deep breath... heavy stuff. We hope His plan is somewhat close to what we would want. Trusting is so difficult...
Hope your household feels better soon.

Margie said...

Michelle, all I can say is that you're in my prayers tonight. Thanks for writing with so much honesty.

Margie said...

By the way, I LIKE the new look!