Tim and I were talking on the front porch this afternoon. It was a serious conversation, and, yes, I was crying (I'm such a girl!!). For those of you who know us in real life, I'd like to point out that WE WERE NOT FIGHTING!! I thought you'd be pleased to know that! :) Anyway, there's no moral failure in either of our lives (well, no giant ones, anyway), no one has cancer, and neither of us was asking for a divorce. However, the conversation was quite upsetting to me. I should even admit that I was headed in the direction of a "poor me party".
Then we saw him. Isaac was a few feet away and his face was screwing up into a cry. He looked pitiful. Tim called him over and asked what was wrong. He wouldn't tell us at first. Finally, we coaxed it out of him. He said, "I'm sad about what you said, dad." Tim said, "which part?" Isaac slowly and painfully said, "that's she's dying," as he pointed at me and then really started crying.
Oh, no, no, no, NO, NO!!! Mommy's not dying. It took us a minute to convince him. He THOUGHT I WAS DYING. It was too much for his little seven year old heart. No, I'm not dying, at least not any time soon that I know of. So, my "poor me party" got put off for another day. As far as I know, my boys will still have a mom this time next year.
Even if they don't, though, I know that I know that I know that our Provider, Sustainer, and Father is faithful and that they'll be ok, and that's enough for me.