Holding my feverish little one today. You know the wintertime drill: runny nose, flushed face, fever, dry hacking cough, and watery eyes. And, of course, there's vomiting because he's a Hill. We're just waiting for the stomach virus to hit. It's raging through our church. Poor thing just keeps looking at me; wanting to be held. I've pretty much held him for two solid days now. I've just wanted to love my babies.
I keep thinking of Sherri today. I keep waking up at night, praying for her peace and relief. I've thought of her all day today. Today she woke up and readied herself for her baby's funeral. Her nightmare is burned in her mind. How has the Lord held her together? I know that Rick is grieving, too, but for some reason (maybe because I'm a mother), I'm drawn to Sherri's despair. I've never even met her, but her baby's sudden, tragic death is something that is so real, so tangible; it has really shaken me. I pray the Lord would sustain her and her husband.
Life is fleeting. My life may not be as perfectly planned as I'd like for it to be. He is sovereign.