I sit here crying in guilt. I am only slightly ashamed to admit that.
I ran into a woman at target, who's daughter had a rare optical disorder (I don't remember the name but I know her sweet daughter had to have major surgery on her eyes and brain at 6 weeks old). She told me that she is going to help a family who's son is having the same surgery on Friday, at 3 weeks old.
Having put my own son under anesthesia three times, and being terrified and scared over just that simple fact and no knife involved, thankfully, I can only imagine what these parents are feeling and how scared they must be and how hard they must be praying for everything to be okay.
I have a friend on facebook, who I did a Bible study with last January, who's son has mitocondrial disease. This is a horrible disease, and the prognosis is not good. And through it all she has grace and humility and humor. I don't think I could get out of bed every morning, yet alone get up, talk with doctors, and advocate for my boy and do it with a smile. And take care of two other children and be an okay wife.
I am blessed with healthy children. Chalupa is sick right now and coughing and just kind of yucky. He's in good spirit and playing and sleeping and eating so he's truly fine. G is still not eating great but he does eat. He will put food in his mouth and nurish himself. Even if it is mostly cereal and yogurt.
He's so smart and loving and kind and so beloved by his friends, I saw again today at school. And Chalupa loves him and wants to be with him and it's just a blessing.
I am humbled by the blessings I have in front of me and it breaks my heart that children the world over suffer, and that their parents, who only want to love them and watch them thrive, struggle to make decisions to help them.
I read and hear these stories and I want to do something and I can't and it just makes me feel helpless. So I offer my prayers and my thoughts and make meals if they'll take them and then I want to throw money at it. It offers me perspective as I fret over Chalupa's cough. I know so many - too many - who would love to have a child for whom their greatest worry was a common cold.
I wish I could wish that all away. If wishes were horses ...
I ran into a woman at target, who's daughter had a rare optical disorder (I don't remember the name but I know her sweet daughter had to have major surgery on her eyes and brain at 6 weeks old). She told me that she is going to help a family who's son is having the same surgery on Friday, at 3 weeks old.
Having put my own son under anesthesia three times, and being terrified and scared over just that simple fact and no knife involved, thankfully, I can only imagine what these parents are feeling and how scared they must be and how hard they must be praying for everything to be okay.
I have a friend on facebook, who I did a Bible study with last January, who's son has mitocondrial disease. This is a horrible disease, and the prognosis is not good. And through it all she has grace and humility and humor. I don't think I could get out of bed every morning, yet alone get up, talk with doctors, and advocate for my boy and do it with a smile. And take care of two other children and be an okay wife.
I am blessed with healthy children. Chalupa is sick right now and coughing and just kind of yucky. He's in good spirit and playing and sleeping and eating so he's truly fine. G is still not eating great but he does eat. He will put food in his mouth and nurish himself. Even if it is mostly cereal and yogurt.
He's so smart and loving and kind and so beloved by his friends, I saw again today at school. And Chalupa loves him and wants to be with him and it's just a blessing.
I am humbled by the blessings I have in front of me and it breaks my heart that children the world over suffer, and that their parents, who only want to love them and watch them thrive, struggle to make decisions to help them.
I read and hear these stories and I want to do something and I can't and it just makes me feel helpless. So I offer my prayers and my thoughts and make meals if they'll take them and then I want to throw money at it. It offers me perspective as I fret over Chalupa's cough. I know so many - too many - who would love to have a child for whom their greatest worry was a common cold.
I wish I could wish that all away. If wishes were horses ...
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