Mercy

We can't seem to shake the sick.  I got a touch of the stomach bug yesterday afternoon, and Andrew suffered through the full-blown version last night.  It was the first time he's thrown up at an age where he knew what was going on, and it was so sad.   Each time, he would know it was coming and start pleading, "no...no...all clean...done...no" and then, as he threw up, he'd be clawing at his face and mouth to get it out.  It was pitiful.  Today, he's better, but still sickly.

And John Fletcher woke up with another breakout of the all-over hives.  Thankfully, his 4-month well-baby (ha!) appointment was scheduled for today, so we were able to show the doctor the new rash.  He's back on an antihistamine until we see the allergist, so I hope that will make him more comfortable.

Let me give you a peek inside my heart...I was feeling a bit down-trodden this morning, a bit picked-upon, wishing that things were easier at the moment, and that my boys could get well and stay well.  Tired of wastebaskets full of tissues and dropperfuls of medicine and loads of vomity clothes and multiple night awakenings with each boy.  Please understand that I absolutely delight in caring for my children day in and day out...but this unending cycle of sickness has been tiring.  I just had this general feeling that we can't seem to catch a break.

Well, no sooner had I finished signing in at the pediatrician's office, than there was a HUGE sound like a racecar acceleration outside.  I, along with the others in the waiting room, rushed to the window overlooking the street I had just been driving on, and I got there just in time to see a car, completely out of control, jump the median, lose a tire, and speed into oncoming traffic, with a long spray of orange sparks flying from the tireless rim.  The driver narrowly missed one oncoming car, then entered a tunnel, and had what sounded like a very horrific crash.  The police car that had been chasing him was a few seconds behind (I have since learned that he was being pursued following a carjacking), and within 30 seconds the street was full of police cars and fire trucks.  I pray that, by some miracle, all were unhurt.

As I watched one of the pediatricians from our doctor's practice running down the median toward the crash site, through the swarm of firetrucks and police cars, my heart began to swell with thanks.  By God's mercy (and because of my sweet husband's willingness to come home in the middle of his workday to keep sick Andrew), John Fletcher and I were uncharacteristically early for our appointment and were safely inside the building by the time that driver careened toward the tunnel, instead of being on the road just ahead of him.

I intend to come back to these thoughts the next time I'm tempted to feel like I can't catch a break.  I hope I actually will!  God's mercies abound, surrounding us.  This one could not have escaped my notice, but how many others do I just take for granted?

Thank you, Lord, for your mercy.

{4 month update to come...once baby boy is back to his old self}