We were cleaning and disinfecting this afternoon, and I was struck with a pang of...thankfulness.
Why?
I looked at my counter and I saw medicine and vitamin supplements that I can pick up in less than ten minutes...riding a bike no less. My kids get sick and a store with everything I need is only minutes away. A doctor is a call away or a ten minute drive.
I saw my electric kettle. Hot water--a luxury to so many in the world and I rarely, if ever have to give it a second thought. Hot water for tea, to mix with lemon and honey, for hot showers and baths and laundry. An aid for healing, relief and killing germs. Luxury.
My hope is not in my proximity to my local store, my hope is not in the medicines or the doctors. My hope is in the Lord. But I am thankful. We have what so many do not and it should not be taken lightly.
This is not a new thought for me, but it comes back around at times when the norm would be to not feel very blessed. And truly, I'm not saying that having sick kids is not big deal. I'm not saying that the right way to be is rosy and happy in spite of the circumstances. Believe me, I have dear friends walking through rugged trials. But even there, hope and blessing and thankfulness have been found.
Last summer, Belle had pneumonia. She was so very sick and we didn't know what was going on. A slightly frantic call to my doctor was answered by his medical assistant saying, "You need to take her to the ER and you need to take her now."
The hospital is less than 10 minutes away and the drive seemed to take forever. Within minutes, I was carrying my sweet, snuggly, and super-sick daughter through the hospital doors. Within half an hour, she had an IV and they were doing tests. Within an hour an X-ray was ordered, the pneumonia was found and antibiotics were started and prescribed. Once I felt some relief from my anxiety, I remember thinking that this was all going to be very expensive. I also remember feeling grateful at the mere fact that all of this treatment was available. In her check-ups during the following weeks, her doctor mentioned that it wasn't so long ago that pneumonia was a death sentence for children. Scary, but true. It was still scary, but again, I'm thankful.
My sweet girl sleeps on her "sick bed" in the living room as I type. She'll take a warm bath later, take more medicine and drink another "vitamin drink." We may get sleep tonight. No matter, I'll take it.
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P.S. As a side note for Belle's bout with Pneumonia: While I drove to the hospital I prayed for her and for the nurses and doctors who would treat her. A guy in our church is an ER nurse and although their family had been traveling for his work, I had heard they were back in town. I remembered another family who had taken their child to the ER and how blessed they were when Tim walked into their room. I don't know why this passed through my head, but as soon as they took us to an exam room, Tim walked in the door.
Sometimes it's just the little things that let you know that God sees you. He is moving, active, and cares about what is going on. He cared enough to know how much a friendly face meant to me. He was detailed enough to put Tim on the schedule and for Tim to be free and assigned to our case. He heard my unconsciously uttered prayer.
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