Thursday mornings usually begin with a very early morning run. Yesterday I wasn't up for that run. Not literally, I mean I was out of bed, I just wasn't feeling well, so I opted to go back to bed. It would have been a glorious morning for a run. At 5 am, I crawled back under the covers as the cool morning breeze blew through the window, and proceeded to sleep until 8:30! No one else was awake. That is an almost unheard of event. God must have known that I needed a little extra restoration.
Thursday, June 24, 2010. Tim and I have been married for 15 years! Wow. Sometimes that seems like such a milestone, and other times I can't believe it's only been 15 because I feel like we've been together for a lifetime. (That's a good thing!) Our means of celebration was uneventful in terms of something dedicated to recognizing the occasion. The day was full of swim lessons, doctors appointments and baseball games. Tim took the day off (from his office) to help divide and conquer our schedule.
Jakob had an afternoon appointment to get his cast off. He has been excited about this since the moment he walked out of the doctors office with the orange full arm cast. He has done well with the cast on...following the rules of keeping it dry, not sticking something down it to scratch, etc. He has been at every baseball game sitting in the dugout supporting his teammates. He has even been practicing the piano with just one hand. Everyone's hopes were high. I tried to prepare him to possibly accept NOT getting the OK to resume normal activity. He asked daily, and my final answer was that I could not possibly give him a glimour of hope until we left the doctor's office. In my own mind, I was incredibly hopeful that the cast would come off and the doctor would give him a clean bill of health, meaning his normal summer of swimming and baseball and being a boy could continue. Jakob hasn't complained once about having to miss out on these things. On the contrary, he's been incredibly mature about all of it.
He was smiling from ear to ear as the cast was being cut off. As soon as the top piece was removed, my heart sank. I knew the news wasn't going to be good. He went to x-ray, came back and waited patiently for the Dr. to come in. I caught a quick glimpse of the x-ray and just hoped that it was the original one rather than todays. When the doctor came in, he showed us the x-ray and it was devastating. The position of the fractured bone was actually worse, nearly at a 45 degree angle. Another cast would definitely be in order. Jakob was crushed. I could see it. He sat silently with hot tears streaming down his face.
I can't describe the pain I felt for him. I've experienced this feeling before...the overwhelming desire to take away my child's pain. The wishing it was me, not him. While I know that this is nothing compared to the pain Mary must have experienced when her only son was ridiculed, beaten and crucified, I always think of her. Today was no different. I begged her to pray for strength for me to encourage, support and love my hurting child. What minimal trials we have in comparison to hers, and yet, during these times, what a powerful thought and reminder that our Lord suffered so that our minimal and temporary suffering is just that--minimal and temporary.
I would have another opportunity to comfort another son as the day progressed. Our day came to a close with a tournament baseball game. In this double elimination tournament, Joshua and Jonathan's team had already endured one loss to the second team they played. This being their third game, could potentially be the last one too. After 5 well-fought innings, it was indeed their last game. Season over. Because Joshua plays on two teams, he continues to have a few more weeks left of baseball, but for Jonathan, this was it. Not that big a deal considering in just less than a year it starts all over again. It felt like a big deal though, because most of the boys on the team will be playing in a different league next year, but Jon won't...and he won't get to play again with his brother. He was crushed, and I'm sure to an eight year old, this may be what the end of the world looks like.
Friday, June 25, 2010.
The sun came up today. Another glorious day. New cast on, baseball season over, but NOTHING to do today. This is exciting news. Let me repeat that: NOTHING to do today. (Except chores, which I will do my very best to keep to a very bare minimum). No swim lessons, piano lessons, baseball, doctor's appointments...NOTHING.
Thank you God for 15 wonderful years with an amazing man. Thank you for seven beautiful children. Thank you for endless possibilities and opportunities to experience life and all that unfolds with it.