fear. faith. faithful.

tuesday was supposed to be a peaceful day. the girls and i were meeting up with friends for a small picnic.

we were enjoying a light lunch with watermelon and sammies and pita and hummus.

we were laughing, playing, admiring our children and appreciating the summer.

suddenly viy is on the ground. in my arms. not responding entirely. her eyes roll back. i feel her limp. shallow breathing. she is so small and helpless, crumpled here in my embrace.

i do not cry. i cannot cry. my friends are there to help in any way. i somehow talk through a 911 call. i talk to my hubby. i am approached by officers; i try to explain that my baby is going in and out of consciousness... for what seems like forever followed by an eternity. i tell cai that her sissy is fine. i tell viy that everything is fine; Jesus is with her. i see the ambulance.

my hero... so strong

i am fearful, but i hold tight to my faith. i pray to a faithful God.

i do not know how i did not break down and sob, but i know that my prayers were heard. my heart was heavy, but the beats were hollow echoing against cai's high-pitched screams. i waited for viyah to cry.

i waited for God to look, to move, to comfort.

in the ambulance, caiah prayed for her sister too. and when viyah came to, she asked to sing "oh no, You never let go / through the calm and through the storm / oh no, You never let go/every high and every low"...

at such a young age, my girls know who to call on.

the paramedics, the nurses, the physician's assistant, and the pediatrician have all been amazed by viy.
and, for what seems like the millionth time, i am amazed by a God who loves and sustains and cares.
i am amazed by His faithfulness in every situation. and i am grateful for every incredible blessing He has given me.

reminded of my faith, whether calm or through a storm, every day is peaceful.

after the hospital... enjoying a muffin, together

indoor picnic... for now!

Comments

The Most Beautiful Mama

My mama has always been beautiful. It is a beauty that is natural and effortless and is the type of beauty that filled my heart with longing when I was a child. I can recall staring at how flawless the even color of her skin was, how adorable the few freckles were on her cheeks, how symmetrical her nose was. I remember thinking how absolutely perfect she looked in a sari, her pleats folded so pristinely, and the tuck of material into her waist seamless and smooth. I would often feel the softness of my mother’s hands. Hands that had delicate fingers that moved with precision and purpose. Hands that kneaded chapati dough and even held tight to a lawn mower. No matter what she did, her hands were always soft, always welcoming, always beautiful. But she never liked to focus on her own physical beauty. My mother’s true beauty comes from within. I understood certain aspects of this inner beauty when I was a child. The beauty that comes from her servant’s heart and her wor...

imago dei

a few days ago in church, i was reminded of the latin phrase "imago dei" ... and this theological doctrine that humans were made in the image of God reminded me of the beauty that we, as humans, are connected to divinity. there is a splendid and powerful foundation in this belief that mankind, in some way, resembles the Almighty. i thought about what an understanding of this concept would do -- not only for my girls' evaluation of themselves, but for their understanding and treatment of those around them. my daughters, remember that you are fierce. you have a spirit of boldness and a truth that blazes brightly. you are special and set apart and chosen for this specific time in the history of the world. i truly believe that, and i pray you do too. you have been given a confidence and an assurance that you are going to be alright. no matter the circumstance or the obstacle, there will be opportunities to succeed and overcome. if you do not, that is okay too. in al...

Six.

You are six years old. And I will be forever thankful that I have known you outside of my womb for this long, that I have gotten the chance to watch the beginnings of your unique and dynamic journey, and that every single day our family has gained something special from you being in our lives. You are six years old. And I love so much of what that means. The parts that make me smile with the confidence of knowing you are still a small child. The parts of being six that make me take a deep breath and just soak in the moments of your innocence. You are six years old. And I hesitantly accept the parts that I do not completely love. The parts that make me look at your daddy with trepidation in the middle of one of your stories or questions. The facets of this age, of this growing up, that make me wince and tense up and struggle with letting you go. I know that you are only six. I see the way your face brightens when you point at a full moon or the proud smile when you re...

butterfly. babies. love.

Search This Blog