One day down, twenty-nine more to go…
I’ve mentioned before how very much I hate separating from Chase before a procedure and today was no exception. I left my unconscious child in a full body mold in the middle of a huge radiation machine, turned my back, and walked away. With this heavy on me, I cried the whole way back down the hall (much to the chagrin of the nurse escorting me, I’m sure…).
This entire radiation decision feels like a step down the path of destruction. The doctors (and we with them) must tear and ravage his body with everything there is in the hope of once and for all eradicating this terrible thing that is greater still than the near deathly salvation they’ll put him through.
I thought again today about the words of Psalm 139 and realized, no, this is not a road to destruction, but to perfection!
I thought I had a healthy and perfect baby boy one December afternoon. I still remember the first pink tinge of life effusing his skin as they laid him in my arms. How beautiful he was.
My mind cannot fully grasp this, yet my heart cries out that it is true: that December afternoon was but the beginning of a journey to perfection. Chase is only now becoming who his loving Heavenly Father desires him to be!
We don’t know now. But one day we will.
So we will endure that we may be complete. Lacking in nothing. (James 1:2-4)
Moment by moment.