Just two days ago I shared with excitement my first post in over a month. A post about being still. Two days later, "little bird" is back in the hospital. It's a never ending cycle of poor choices and pain, getting better, then getting worse again. I'm still, still. This time, the peace that passes all human understanding has me baffled. My boat has been rocked, but there are no waves for me to fear. We've walked this road before and I know I'm not responsible. I'm not responsible for what has happened, or what will happen. I'm only responsible to be faithful to God and his will, including what role I am to play in the healing process . . . this time. I'm tempted to grapple for answers, but I stop short when I realize the words, grapple and stillness, don't go together. God sees that little bird. His eye can zoom right in to the very fibers of the blanket covering his body, and deeper still to the inmost parts that he nit together in the womb. God knows. I must be still and trust and obey, and be thankful for there are blessings every day even in days like these, especially in days like these. Just when you think things are calming down, no longer at a boil, you round the corner to find they had only been reduced to a simmer and the heats been turned back up - count your blessings anyway.
836. the visit to his apartment to see how he was doing and why things didn't seem right.
837. crisis centers that can lend help and direction
838. hospital emergency rooms
839. kind nurses and medical personnel
840. the opportunity to show compassion
841. peace when it seemed he might not make it
842. improvement in a seemingly hopeless situation
843. watching the people come and go in the hospital, seeing the pain, and being reminded of what the Gospel is all about.
844. God sees it all
845. family who prays
846. friends who pray
847. not having to know the answers
848. being willing to trust anyway
849. little joys
850. fresh pineapple