"I've dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they've gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the colour of my mind."

-Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte

of every blessing.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it. 

Prone to leave the God I love. 

Here's my heart, O take and seal it. 

Seal it for Thy courts above. 

grandpa.

six years ago today

I found out I had appendicitis.
(reluctantly...I was in a great deal of pain, but my mom didn't want me to go to the doctor if it wasn't a big deal...she was willing if I was sure it was serious...which of course I wasn't  because I am never sure.)

I went to Dr. Mitch.
He poked me (particularly right on top of the parts that hurt)
(which made them hurt worse)
He hit the bottom of my foot (which again forced pain into the parts that already hurt)
He said things.
Things I don't really remember, except
I am 99.9% sure you have appendicitis. 
Go to the emergency room. Right away. 
If I'm right, you'll need to have it removed.


My mom drove me (in her red bug) to the ER.
We didn't say much...other than,
"Good thing we came to the doctor?"

Indeed.

I remember the lady asking me to number my pain.
Which was far too much pressure for my anxiety-filled mind.
What if I say the wrong number? What if they don't believe me?


When I had a moment to think,
I cried.
And my mom let me cry.


They ran more tests on me.
He was .1% unsure (which meant more tests)
They were uncomfortable (the kind that make me cringe)

I waited.
My brother and dad came before the surgery
(the surgery they knew for sure I now needed)
And they placed their hands on my head.

I cried then too.

My mom was by my side the whole time.
As they poked me with needles and questioned me and told me things.
She walked me down the same hallway that she had taken my grandpa 8 years before (almost to the day)
The same hallway that took him,
but didn't bring him back.

When I awoke they were there.
My mom. And my dad.
With smiles.

It may not seem like anything of importance to anyone else.
Routine surgery.
I know there are far worse things.
But I was 14.
And I was scared.

When I look back on it.

Sometimes I still cry. 

Not because it was a huge deal, 

Not because it was really that significant,

but because it is (almost) tangible evidence of the family that has changed my life.  

The family that makes me eternally grateful,

That my mom will never leave my side (even if she isn't phsyically with me)

That both my dad and my brother can bless me (in more ways than one)

That I get to be related to some of the most Christ-like people I know.

The reason behind this ridiculously long post (which I apologize for)...is the realization (a long time coming) that, I am one blessed girl. And I have the family to prove it.