A Day In the Life

Steve and I attended a wedding last Friday evening.  As we left the ceremony and drove to the reception we passed Nationwide Children's Hospital.  It was a dark stormy night, which made the illuminated heart that graces the building stand out brightly against the horizon.  The windows of the hundreds of in-patient rooms shone softly, making me wonder what stories lay behind each one. 

Early morning sun peeking in the window on my sleeping boy.

 As I stared silently, Steve glanced to his left catching sight of the building.  "A beacon of hope," he stated.  I smiled at his words, realizing I had been thinking more along the lines of "the valley of the shadow of death." 

Reading a Bible story before bed.

I have met a few precious children on the halls of the hematology/oncology unit who are now safe in the arms of Jesus.  That is something I will never be able to forget.  My heart sank at the news.  During our last hospital stay the patient in the neighboring room was surrounded by 30 visitors, faces somber.  I stopped wide-eyed an hour later as I passed the room.  It was empty.  Everyone was gone.  The faint smell of chemical cleaners escaped as the door stood open to reveal the room was being cleaned.

Painting a dinosaur chosen from the "Art Cart."  A therapy activity sponsored by the Lance Armstrong Foundation.

 Steve's words shook me from my daydream.  Funny how many feelings and memories can run concurrently in a moment's time.  "A beacon of hope."  He's right you know.  For every heartache there is a story of hope, of beauty from ashes, of healing and faith and rescue.  Even in the middle of this journey God is consistently gracious enough to offer a change of perspective to a realist like me.

Chatting with his massage therapist.  He LOVES her :)

 This verse has been a constant inspiration to us: Luke 11:33-35 “Your eye is a lamp, lighting up your whole body. If you live in wide-eyed wonder and belief, your body fills up with light. If you live squinty-eyed in greed and distrust, your body is a dark cellar. Keep your eyes open, your lamp burning, so you don’t get musty and murky. Keep your life as well-lighted as your best-lighted room.”

He loves ordering his meals by phone. 

I don't have to look any further than my strong hero, Blake, to find the power of this verse at work.  Thankfully he's gotten used to this whole hospital thing.  However, I know that when these days are behind us I want to have a visual record.  During our last five day stay I brought along the camera and a heart determined to allow God to adjust my perspective.  

We've three months to go on this journey of treatment.  We've a lifetime to go as a family.  I'm sure I will keep this time in my heart forever.  I wouldn't have it any other way.  But, I know life will move on.  I know there will be days when we don't even think about cancer, or chemo, or blood counts.  My prayer is that on those sunny days, years from now,  I'll catch a glimpse of Nationwide Children's Hospital out my window and smile because I see, "a beacon of hope."