I was gratified to be recognized for some of my freelancing work for the first time, and touched to tears over the generous act of a friend. I was overwhelmed when, during a routine trip to Costco with Isaac and Brady in tow, I realized as I arrived at the checkout lane that they were collecting donations for CHO this month. As I croaked out yes, I'd like to make a contribution I had to steel my jaw to keep the emotion from spilling forth. Even so, I suspect red-rimmed eyes coupled with a shaky hand that scrawled Logan alongside a heart on the donation card betrayed my attempt.
Then this evening, as I arrived outside Logan's room and put my bags down to wash my hands, I peeked through the window and saw my little sunshine propped up in bed, his face puffy and his little lungs clearly laboring to breathe. And my heart broke all over again. I'm not sure how many times a heart can heal itself after it's cracked open and bled, but mine has done it more times than I can count.
He's apparently right where he's supposed to be in terms of health. It's a small comfort, though, given how he labors to breathe, to talk, to communicate. How his eyes droop and his heartrate soars into the 170s. It's hard to believe, in moments like this, that God hasn't forgotten all about him. It's such a hefty, overwhelming cross for someone so young, so tender, so mild to bear. But bear it he does, because he wasn't given a choice.
Please, please pray for Logan's health. Pray that he will improve faster than expected. But more importantly, that it will be permanent healing. That he'll be with us at home on Mother's Day next year. That all of our hearts will be allowed to heal.
Have a blessed weekend.