I'm renaming this blog- "My World". I'm the one who posts, no one else. It's from my perspective, my poor grammar and spelling. It's my vision, my thoughts and my stories. I even take the pictures and that too is my "eye", creative shot and where I am at that moment. It's my memories.
I sit here at 11pm on a typical work night. I smell a strange plastic smell next to me and realize its from Avery's baby doll. That's some stinky plastic! I can't sleep. I've just learned of another friend's wife losing her battle to cancer. She's gone. Her facebook page is still there and it is strange to see posts from her to others and for her to be gone. She did it right. Her husband did it right. All glory to God. There lives were and will continue to point to Christ. What else is the point? Many would say I'm a good person who married a good wife and will most likely raise good kids. That's just not enough for me. I have far to go and sometimes don't know why I don't have cancer or why I've been spared. I do so much wrong yet it is grace that I have been forgiven and continue to bask in that Truth. It spurs change and transformation.
I hear noises from outside. Kinda right by the outside of the house. I wait for more noises and they come. I try to place the source. Did I lock the downstairs windows and it's the wind? Rodents? I get up and throw on shorts. After all, if theres an intruder I want to be dressed I guess. I snap three times, quietly from the kitchen for Leila careful to not wake Avery...or Kate for that matter. She comes quickly from her bed. I begin down the steps and then sheepishly send Leila first. She darts down the steps and "huffs/growls" as some of you know her to do. She thrives in confrontation as if to say, "Why are you here?" "When are you leaving?" and "Do I get a treat when this is over?" All is well in the basement. Leila returns up the stairs and I hear her claws on the hardwood above my head leading to the bedroom eager to warm her bed.
I'm learning much these days. I heard it said this week by a pastor. "Going to work is first shift. When you get home and are on the floor with the kids, that's second shift. Third shift is after the kids go to bed, the conversations start about your wife's day and thoughts. When is your time? Five AM. If you don't like that then stay single." So much about my day is sacrifice. I don't want it to be, I want it to be about ME. They say marriage it supposed to make you holy not happy. Let me tell you, Katie unintentionally will pull out my weaknesses. No be mistaken, she definitely makes me a "better person." But it's those challenges that brings forth life change and enables me to be a better husband, father and man. So I go on. Placing simple reminders in my head on a daily basis that my family is my priority. I'm finding that my family thrives when I am selfless and when I have a servants heart. I need constant reminders of this!
Now it's 11:30pm. I think i've got it all out. I will still manage about seven hours. Tomorrow I have six patients. Some of which are dying and are refusing to accept that fate. I fear I will be with them until the end attempting to remove some sort of joint pain that hospice can take care of in a matter of minutes. Some swear they can breath better after I work with them. I don't claim healing hands but often wonder if I even understand the power of prayer- as I often do in secret for these individuals. I didn't ask to be pulled to the end with them. But I will do it. I don't know why.
Tomorrow Avery will wake up at 7am almost to the minute. I celebrate life at 7am. She will request her bottle before I get a hug and kiss. The dog will demand a walk and Katie will put together my lunch. It is now that I am reminded how good I have it.
