Undented Joy

Now has been even longer since I last wrote. I am going to try to write every two weeks or so for the next six months so that all the wonderful folks who have prayed and given us help can see the after time.

Lila is still doing very well. Her treatment is working. She is still running. She is still more tired than most kids her age. But they said up to six months for her to really recover. The head media guy at National Jewish Hospital in Denver sent this picture to me yesterday. They have a few pictures and they talked with us for a while because they want to use Lila's story as part of a promotional thing. We are only too happy to let them do that. This place changed our lives and took care of our baby. I would give them almost anything they wanted.

I have started my chaplain residency and the last two weeks have been very busy and intense. It has been a transition for us all to have me working so much. They will be better after this week, but orientation is a lot of stuff. I was thinking of writing because two days ago, I came out of the YMCA, where I go at 5:45am, and had a flat tire. It was not a great morning for it because I was leading devotions for the chaplains at the hospital. Luckily my sister was there and took me to work. Yesterday was a not great day either. Ben called me at work first to tell me that Lila had gotten into the medicine and taken a bunch and he was calling poison control (she's fine) and then called me to tell me Samantha was throwing up. To top it off, I had a confrontation with a grieving person at the hospital which ended in her assaulting me. Not good times. But you know what? Someone said to me, "doesn't it feel good to have normal stuff going wrong for a change?" And it does. Something has shifted in me. I don't know if it will stay or not, but all these things seem pretty minor. I have this joy in me that cannot be dimmed or dented by the things I used to get so worked up about.

My daughter is well. She is playing and jumping and laughing. I've not heard her cough in a month. I have not been a patient with her in 6 weeks or heard her cry while going through tough procedures. I have not felt helpless. I have not cuddled her while she worked to breathe wondering if she was going to die. ER, Pediatric ICU, 5th floor, are slowly becoming places I work, not places that I feared my child's life, not places where I sat disconnected, lonely, miserable. How can anything dent my joy? I still feel like singing and shouting. My vision has sharpened to see what's really important. Now I know. Blessings to you all.