November 12, 2019

Yesterday morning Colton went in for another spinal tap. This was his fifth one, each of which he’s taken with the most grace and ease. I hold him tightly in my arms as they put anesthesia through his port. Within seconds his whole body becomes limp, his little eyes close and he rests his head on my chest before I lay him on the procedure table. 

The nurses call for someone to take Jason and I to the waiting room and each time the doors close behind us my eyes well up with tears and I lose all control over my emotions. 

I hope it never gets easy for me to leave Colton in that room and walk away.

I hope injustice never becomes comfortable. 

I hope this hospital never feels like home.

I hope sickness never is normal. 

Because it’s not.

It’s not supposed to be this way. 

Sickness, fear, pain, hurt, sorrow, sadness, anxiety. 

None of it has a place in the Kingdom of Heaven.  

I know it breaks God’s heart as much as it breaks mine. 

Every time I leave that room I release control over Colton and trust that God is orchestrating the doctors every move.

I trust that he is kept in perfect peace.

I trust that God is using his story to change the lives of every person who cares for him.

And then I repeat this to myself until my soul believes it-

Still my heart 

Let your voice be all I hear

Fix my eyes on things I can’t see

Come Lord Come. 

I know You have never not been faithful.