Good news

I interupt this blog sabatical to bring you some GOOD NEWS. Mark and Becky will be bringing their baby boy  home from Africa in 9 days! Can I hear a WAHOO?? So excited for the entire family! Congrats Y'all!..and good luck with travelin!

Recovery

Balin is recovering. He has nests in several rooms here at my moms house. He has the movie nest in the media room where we slept last night. He has a nest on the couch in another room where he can "be where the talking is."( Don't we all crave community? ) He lies in his nests and every once in a while I move him to the next one, or carry him to the bathroom.  He has two incisions from surgery. Although smaller than his last surgery, they both ache, and to see them, for him, is worse. He panics that he will see something ugly. Something bloody.  I think about this book I am reading and the soul holes. I think about sin and recovery. How sometimes, it is the very sight of our sin that is so painful. We don't want to be reminded. We don't want to risk what might be there. What if the bandages we have covering the ugly actually come off and reveal what they hide?  He clings to me and begs me not to let him see. I promise he won't. I promise him that its not like his last surgery, but fear has a way of blinding us. How many times do I beg God not to let me see. Usually its disguised in prayers for something else. Bandages. Cheaper rent. A bandage over debt we have sinfully acquired. Quiet children. A bandage over my impatience. Weight loss. Covering the void I fill with food. But as afraid as he is, I know he is healing. I know his sutures will hold. I know his scars will fade. I know the medicine works. Just like our Father, who holds us in his arms, and gives us a place of rest. He covers us with mercy so we don't have to see until he's ready for us to. Mercy. Recovery.

Being a mom feels like...

the deep end of a wave pool. Its been one of those weeks. Ayden leaves for a long trip to see his Colorado family on Saturday. He loves it. Gets to go camping, fishing, hiking. Gets to breathe cool fresh Colorado air under blue rocky mountain skies. Gets to eat Big City Burrito. Or not. I'll miss him and if I think too much about missing him and my friends and the air and the food and the friends and the friends and the friends it starts to feel like the waves are going too high. I can't touch bottom. But then Silas takes steps and the waves stop and I rest. Or my husband comes home after 36 hours away and hugs me. rest. Then the phone rings and the hospital asks for too much money before Balins surgery on Monday. Half a paycheck actually in just a matter of days. Not possible. Waves. I start crying on the phone with admissions when she says that all she can offer, waves , but she will leave a message with financial services. Financial services accepts my offer of 200$ and I rest then she calls back and tells me I have four months to pay the rest. Waves. He is having surgery. Waves. But its with the chief of pediatric urology at a hoity toity amazing hospital rest.  I read the first book of Harry Potter to Ayden and read great articles that show Grace and give reason for Christians not only enjoy the books but to love them, rest. One more chapter mommy! Rest. But then Balin wakes up with a stomach virus Tuesday night. Waves. And Ayden wakes up last night with the same. Waves. And the baby has really sad diapers. Waves. Waves Waves. My toes are getting rubbed raw from the bottom of the pool. But rest is near. I just have to reach for it. Balin's surgery is scheduled in the afternoon. Another Wave, but he can eat clear liquids and jello- meaning breakfast! until 9:00 am Monday. Rest. My husband will be home all weekend. rest. My mom is helping with the baby, rest. My dad will be home from Africa a day early, rest.  My savior lives. rest. rest. rest. All is to His glory. rest. rest. rest.

My 1000 gifts this week ( a sampling)
friends so good you still miss them after 9 years
burritos so good you still miss them after 9 years
healthy children
talented doctors
novels that inspire imagination
eternity written our hearts
husbands who want to be home, even when they cant
husbands waking in the middle of the night to prepare bottles
soft boy child hair
chocolate eyes framed in licorice lashes
mothers who baby sit
awkward, tipsy first baby steps
confidence I did not teach
children who forgive
bed piled high with pillows