I'm just catching up. This weekend was wonderful, then a whirlwind.
My sister's children are so close to my heart, it's a love I never could have imagined, but one I thank God for every day. Watching my sisters grow, deliver, and raise a baby brings so much joy, and when they're in a rough patch, so am I.
My oldest sister has two boys, Quinton and Noah. Quinton was scheduled for a routine surgery yesterday at the Children's Hospital about two hours away, the same hospital in which Noah was taken to three days before, then again and admitted just a day prior. Noah (the sweet littlest cheeser- and yes, that's his "cheese!" face) is being evaluated for a seizure disorder.
The night of his first seizure, I lay awake reliving it. Over and over. His actions, the look on his face, the reaction of his Mommy. Tears flowed as I felt so concern, so many questions. So the day we knee he'd have a sedated MRI and EEG, just an hour after his brother had his surgery, I knew there was one place I was supposed to be. There- with my sister. Even if I could only sit beside her in the waiting room. Or "shhh" a crying, angry, afraid baby while swaddled to the table. So I left my family for the day, and even though I always miss them when I'm away, I knew I was in the right place. I just can't explain the love I have for these boys, and the empathy for my sister.
So while we await results. While we squeeze and kiss a healing child. While we look with sympathetic eyes on those we love so much. We know we're in the hands of a God that loves us even more. And in that, I can find some peace.
xx,
Lisa
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