Today when we took him to the hospital I was able to appear calm until I watched him wheeled into the surgery room (in a red wagon which Josh and I thought was a nice touch). Tears filled my eyes from that moment until I was holding him in the recovery room. So why was I so scared? Now that we are home and he is laying on my bed eating oatmeal and drinking sprite, I wanted to take a moment and reflect and share my thoughts.
I love that little boy more than life itself. He brings me joy even in his more disobedient times. Trusting his life to another person has been an issue with me from the day he was born. I thought that trusting the doctor with him would be my fear, but it wasn't. What I have come to realize, so far, is that one thing I was afraid of was to admit I had fear. I felt it was a sign of weakness, and I trust God so why should I be weak and afraid right? And to be honest I don't think I am done with this lesson on trust yet. I feel like there is going to be more time of reflection and listening to what God is teaching me. However, there is one thing I know for sure, I am thankful for knowing that I have someone who can sustain me through my weakest moments when I am, literally, not able to have strength to do it myself.
