Weathering storms

It is pouring down rain here on the prairie, accompanied by all the flash and noise of a big Spring storm. We are hoping it passes soon so we can carry on with plans we had made for the morning. 

But as I sit here, I am of the mind to share a memory from three years ago where a day went far from the way we had planned it. I wasn’t sure I would ever feel like sharing it, but lately it keeps bubbling to the surface of my thoughts so I think it is time. 

Russ had recently retired and now was invested in joining me on the Tuesday/Thursday treks to Bloomington where are three school agers were being homeschooled and our Sweet Caroline was living her best life with her boys around 24/7. 

We went up the morning of this story around 11 as Zach would be heading to work at 11:30. He was finishing getting ready, the boys were working on various assignments that Russ was getting the low down on and I was going to put Caroline down for her nap. 

Our big plan was to make a rainbow cake for St. Patrick’s Day when she woke up. That was the plan. 

However, as we settled into her bed, she decided she wanted one more book. The vision of the following few minutes is permanently inked on my brain in a kind of horrible slow motion reel. As she jumped off her bed, her feet caught in the blanket we had fixed to snuggle under. 

She tripped forward and kept propelling across and downward until her little face landed on the book shelf across from her bed. I knew it was bad, but as she grabbed her face and screamed, I feared the absolute worst. 

Her daddy came running, in his white t-shirt and work pants…he was in the process of dressing to head out. He carried her in the bathroom and immediately called out this needed a trip to the hospital. I feared it was her eye as his shirt already bore a fair amount of blood. 

He rushed downstairs, holding her as she screamed. God bless Russ, who calmly got keys and away they went in the van that had now become an ambulance. I was left with three crying and frantic boys, and was myself a sobbing mess trying to pull it together to comfort and assure them. 

Zach, bless his heart, called us on the way with his own effort to reassure us. He had gotten the bleeding to somewhat subside, thank God it was her eyebrow and not her eye. She was trying to smile to show us she was okay, but the remnants of the injury covered her sweet little face. 

The boys and I on our end were using every ounce of strength we had to smile through our tears and tell her she was so brave and looked so good. We hung up and held each other tightly and there was more weeping. 

Another call came from Mommy with her comforting voice letting us know she was with them at the hospital and while Caroline would need a couple of stitches, she was going to be fine. She let her mother know the cut was right in the eyebrow and would likely heal with no visible scarring. 

I felt so awful. While it was completely an accident and in no way could have been avoided, I felt the weight of it on my shoulders and still do to a certain degree. 

I suggested to the boys we go ahead and make the cake so she had it when she got home. They were troopers and we worked together that day with heavy hearts. 

Life happens. 

The unexpected comes along on a seemingly ordinary day and rips the ground out from under us. 

That day, three little boys and I held to our God. We prayed a lot, we cried and clung together for support. We received our wounded soldier back with grateful arms.

I don’t know what your day or mine will bring, but God is faithful and He is with us. 

You are not alone.

You are dearly loved <3