YESTERDAY … I received the call that no one wants.
Problem … puzzlement … CT scans needed ASAP … odd mass …
Truthfully, I would have felt better about the phone call if the problem were with my health. I am no stranger to return visits and further tests. But the moment I knew it involved the health of my son, I felt … terrified.
This is my precious boy. We worked so hard to get him home. Surely this isn’t happening.
In truth, I don’t know what tomorrow holds. I don’t know what next week holds or the week after. We will go back for more tests very soon. Maybe (hopefully!) this will all wind up something we can handle with ease. In a perfect world, the mass will be a misunderstanding. In a perfect world, my son’s chewable multi-vitamins (which he loves, by the way) will be all the medical boost he needs to keep growing healthy and strong.
Last night I prayed that my son would outlive his mama (after she lives to be a really old woman).
This morning I woke up thinking about the importance of appreciating every day, every moment, every opportunity. In reality, do I ever know what tomorrow holds? Can I ever say with certainty that life will go as planned next week or the week after? We are guaranteed nothing in terms of days on this earth. So what do I have to be concerned about today that I don’t have to be concerned about any other day of any other week?
Perhaps, when I look at it that way, phone calls like the one I got yesterday are really gifts in disguise. They remind me that life is a vapor. And regardless of how long the vapor lasts, the vapor is still a vapor.
Today I will squeeze my son tighter, linger a little longer at the supper table with my family, and take that extra photo (even though it requires loading up the camera).
This is the day which the LORD hath made; [I] will rejoice and be glad in it (Psalm 118:24 ESV).