Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Palm Sunday.


Oh my sweet baby boy.  How I take you for granted- how much I count the days before they come that we will have together.  Lord that I may embrace each day as a gift; not owed, not mundane, not bothersome.  How quickly peace can shatter- faster than glass.

This particular Easter Sunday we were visiting our family and attending my Father-in-law's church.  Isn't it terrible that my heart races even thinking of this day?? That I look at these pictures and think about that morning and how badly that day could have ended?

Not trying to be dramatic.  The service was very good, and I went to pick up the boys from the nursery when they let me know that Hayden had fallen off the changing table.  my.heart.stops.  I'm thinking, "is he ok??" "when did this happen??" "how could you DO this to my baby?  How could you LET HIM FALL?"  So I run away- the farthest I can get is the bathroom so I can think to myself for a moment.  James did so well and no accidents that morning and I just stooped in the bathroom with my boys and wanted to never let anyone touch them again.

So I call my husband, (we)I check out my baby, my 8 month old baby.  We can't find a mark, scratch, dent on him.  My insides just wanted to SCREAM.  I call my on call nurse and walk through all the information we had with her to decide if we needed to take him in to the local hospital, and she advised that he would be best cared for by monitoring him for responses for the next 3 days- levels of alertness after sleeping, talking sounds, etc.  It felt so awful to hold him in my arms and not to know if he was ok or not- whether he had suffered or not. I remember losing it when I was trying to tell him how sorry I was that he fell.

I took my pain to the Lord- why would give me this today Lord?  My boy was alright- he could not have been.  I still worry about him.  Can I not accept the good with what feels bad?  Can I not count it blessing that my son is with me today, whole and happy to the best of my knowledge?  Why is it so hard to forgive the woman who dropped him and why am I so angry to think of it? Is it injustice??  My boy did not deserve to be neglected in such a way- but in so many ways I see how I can learn to give up control over my boys' lives to the Lord.  I can't control- I can't alway protect.  I have to trust- I'm afraid.  But my arms aren't as big as His.

Does it feel like I am making a big deal out of a little one?  sometimes I think so, but then I think of it again and I am back to angry and choosing forgiveness and acceptance of what the Lord gives us in this life.  I can say thank you to Him at the end of the day and in the midst of it.  I remember sitting down to eat dinner that night and saying the usual prayer, "thank you for this food, thank you for this day..." and I stopped myself.  Thank you for this day?? THIS day? How could I not be thankful.. with all I'm given.

*James and Winnie the Pooh.  I love these stories- remind me of my childhood.  Thanks for noticing me.

Oh Grandpa.  Thanks for the snuggles.  This feels pretty good.

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