Wednesday, September 27, 2006

102.8

102.8.
Great. I had a feeling when I woke up yesterday, and saw Mason's not-so-clean nose, and light cough. I have officially developed a mother instinct, I guess. Coen's had a cold, so I figured it was just that summer cold everyone's passing around, and didn't think to much of it. By 5:30pm, though, he's lying on the couch watching "Darth Mal movie" (Star Wars Episode 1). I look over, and instantly recognize that glassy-eyed look that usually comes with a fever. I grabbed our new, handy-dandy digital ear thermometer, and within about 3 seconds, I had confirmed my fears. 102.8.

Wow, that's a little high for me. So, I instantly kick into "mommy mode" and hook him up with some Motrin, as well as a Pedialyte cooler that we keep on standby. Having a sick child in the house with a newborn is a first for me, so I give him the lecture on staying away from Coen. As if it will do any good. "We'll all end up with it by Friday," I thought. We still might.

I stroke his head of hair, and tell him we'll get him all fixed up. He instantly tones down his usual four year self, and becomes the baby he's quickly outgrowing, again. It made me think. How quickly he will outgrow his need for me. How quickly the day will come when his wife will put him to bed, and help him fight a cold. It made me nostalgic. It made me even treasure the fact that he is a little sick, just a bit. I thought to myself, that when he's sick, he loves to be held, and taken care of, and Mommy is just about the best thing in the world.

He told me and Martin last night (in so many words), "I hate being sick- I'm going to miss school and karate tomorrow." Yet, these are times of his life when he'll look back, and remember how Mommy and Daddy took care of him when he was sick, and maybe even think fondly on these days. I must say that thinking of these things made it a little easier to get out of bed at 4:00, and then at 5 something, and then at 6:30 to feed Coen. How little time I will have to do these things.

I also thought that this must be the way God looks at us, as His children. He really hates to see us get sick, or be sad, or have a trial in our life, but He will use the opportunity to "pull us into His lap", hold us close, and teach us things. The older I get, the more I look to God to be my Father. Not just a God with white hair, long beard, big stick- waiting for me to mess up. It's awful, but I think that's how we sometimes see Him. I'm learning to see His love in everything.

God has used this song by Natalie Grant several times in my life. Please read the lyrics. It makes me think of Our Father wanting to hold us, and bring us close.

"HELD"
Two months is too little
They let him go
They had no sudden healing
To think that providence
Would take a child from his mother
While she prays, is appalling
Who told us we’d be rescued
What has changed and
Why should we be saved from nightmares
Were asking why this happens to us
Who have died to live, it’s unfair
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We’d be held
This hand is bitterness
We want to taste it and
Let the hatred numb our sorrows
The wise hand opens slowly
To lilies of the valley and tomorrow
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We’d be held
If hope if born of suffering
If this is only the beginning
Can we not wait, for one hour
Watching for our savior
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We’d be held

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