Then came the night. . .
Apparently, one of the dozens of kids there shared more than just a hug with everyone. A fiendishly aggressive little virus had come along for the ride! It first reared it's ugly little head with my oldest, Shelby. Less than two hours later Madison had it too. I fought it off for a few days, but it finally beat me.
Now let me just throw in here, my hubby had been gone for two months on a training mission. We had missed him terribly and he was finally coming home! Of course, with all three of us lying in bed, barely able to move, the welcome home party we had planned was a no-go.
Oh, well. At least he had his health!
Yeah, right! "Scoot over, girls! Make room for Daddy!"
We've had temperatures from 99 to 104. We've slept fourteen hours in a single day. We've . . . well, let's just say there's a Jonas Brothers popcorn bucket that will never again see the light of day!
I know in the grand scheme of things, this could have been a lot worse. At least we knew what we were up against, and that stayed the fear. We are not always given a 'better in seven days' guarantee. We are left with just our prayers, and the faith that God will answer. (Wink and a smile to cousin Amber and sweet Sawyer!)
As we sat in church this morning and listened to our pastor's message, I marvelled at God's amazing grace. You see, our pastor wasn't supposed to be there this morning. He wasn't even supposed to be alive. He was diagnosed with cancer last year and only given a few weeks to live. Yet there he was, spunky as ever, back in the pulpit right where the Lord wanted him to be. Nothing trite about that!
It's been over a week, and the clouds have parted! The air smells fresher and the bird sound sweeter. And, yes! We have our health!