A Bruised Day

We're snuggled in for the night here at the Smith house. (Thank you, Jesus.)

Today was our first day back to "normal" following a relaxing Christmas vacation. I don't think that any of us were quite ready to crack back open the school books and resume learning this morning.

The day was filled with squabbles, impatience, harsh words and a general feeling of overall frustration from all of us. I breathed prayers of peace more than once as the day wore on. I mandated quiet time for all of us this afternoon. The bliss of Monday gave way to the weariness of Wednesday, and today I had to literally choose joy over and over again. 

But isn't that life best lived? Choosing joy in every adversity? Loving despite weariness? Believing in the promises from the Promise Keeper?

Today didn't start out blissfully, but here's how it ended:

Peyton and I were sitting on the couch. He was watching Star Wars Episode I while I perused Facebook. Parker was playing in her room. That's when I stumbled across this: Praying for Haven Grace. 

The status update reads, "Our Precious little Haven is slipping away from us hour by hour..The Doctors Have nothing else to offer but to make her comfortable..Please!! PLease!! As much as we love all of you and treasure your prayers and concerns we can only allow immediate family and a few close friends which we have already contacted to visit @ this time.. Thank You all so much."

I perused the page, looked at pictures of Haven Grace and a flood of tears washed down my cheeks. The tears turned into deep silent sobs that are from such a sacred place in your heart that something inside your spirit begins to hurt too--tears that become prayers themselves.

Parker skipped out of her room, noticed my silent distress and scooted onto the couch next to me to ask what was wrong. I showed her Haven Grace and told her what I could piece together of her story. And at that, Peyton paused the movie and said, "Let's just stop and pray for her all together right now." 

So we all held hands, huddled together on the waxy brown couch, and prayed for Haven Grace. The same silent tears that soaked my cheeks began trickling down Parker's too as we asked God to wrap his arms tightly around Haven and her family tonight. We thanked God for being THE healer. We took comfort together that here on Earth or forever in Heaven that Jesus is carrying that precious little one. 

After we prayed, Peyton resumed watching his movie. Parker grabbed a Kleenex to wipe the tears from her eyes and snuggled in for some extra hugs. And I couldn't help but grieve for all that Haven's mom and dad must be feeling tonight. It moved me to pray for so many of my friends who have had to walk very difficult roads with their childrens' health. Bless their battle-weary hearts too.

Throughout the remainder of the evening, Parker periodically asked me if I was still sad. I assured her that even though my heart still aches for Haven Grace and her family, I'm so thankful to know that God loves her even more than I can imagine-- and I can trust Him to take great care of this sweet little girl the same way that I trust his care for us all. 

At the end of the night I cozied my little ones snugly into their beds and kissed them a few more times than usual. The squabbles, impatience, harsh words and frustrations that bruised our joy today melted away when Peyton compassionately reminded me to stop and look at Jesus. Together. Unified. Choosing to look past our every day inadequacies and look into the face of the one who makes us whole. 

Amen.