Peace like a river — how refreshing that stream — that calms us, like a wondering dream.
One of the hardest things about this East Coast/ West Coast life is that I always seem to be on the wrong coast at the wrong time. I had no resources to just jump on a plane and run to his rescue. I had to wait and trust and pray-something much easier in theory than in reality. My family and friends living on the East Coast stood at the ready to gather my son up and take him somewhere safe for healing. Daily phone calls helped because I could tell at the moment he answered the phone by the tone of his voice how he was doing. I still want to get back there and help and make him dinner and check the stitches to make sure they are not infected. But here I am, doing helping of a different kind.
And through this entire week, with the exception of a few anxious moments in the middle of the night, I had peace. Peace like a river. I had no idea how things would turn out, so I had to rest. And pray for wisdom. And then, strangers who let me know that my son was in their prayers asked me how they could help. It is so heart-warming to have family and friends who know my son reach out. But it was the kindness of strangers that made me so grateful for the goodness still very apparent in this world.
This morning, when I spoke to my son, he said he is hoping to go back to work next week. I am hopeful that the healing continues-body, mind, and spirit.
I am still at the ready to do whatever it is that needs doing, but in this week, I learned that there are some circumstances where God can handle the big stuff on His own.
My job is to take care of the tasks at hand and seek wisdom, and enjoy the peace that comes when you least expect it!
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