My Bear.
The past few weeks have been hard on him. He’s become clingy and emotional, never wanting to leave my side, wanting me to be next to him in his bed until he falls asleep. Recently I’ve felt the unexpected slip of his little hand into mine, a rarity for him. He’s the funny one. The boy who wants to run and play and imagine. No time to cuddle, Mom, there’s pirate ships to build and castles to guard!
I can’t watch this without
1.) crying
2.) getting goosebumps
3.) thinking this is how How Great Thou Art was meant to be sung (and I’m not even a big country fan)
Behold another health update with probably more information than y’all want to know, but for those of you who do… here’s the scoop.
My surgery is tomorrow morning at 7:30. I go in at 6:00 for prep. They told me at my pre-op interview that they should be able to use my port, which means no IV’s, which would be wonderful! Please pray that this works out… I would just as soon skip the panic attacks that come with vein searches.
The surgery itself should take about 1 1/2 to 2 hours, and I am first on the docket, so I should be on time. Then I’ll be in recovery for a while.
Worshipping with my children this morning, I fix breakfast while the music plays. It is hard to focus on bagels when the melodies course through our kitchen. “Hallelujah! Grace like rain pours down on me. Hallelujah! All my stains are washed away, they’re washed away!” My eyes close. I cannot keep my mind on the task at hand. My hands must raise, lifted in praise to my God. The task at hand is worship! My children sing with me, little voices floating through the kitchen. My eyes well with tears. Prayers lifted for their hearts to run when mercy calls, that they would bask in the grace that overflows into our lives. So much grace. So undeserving. There is no other response than praise.