Evening Time

I'm guessing by the uptick in blog traffic today that some of you are checking in a little more often than usual. I should tell you now that the MRI was originally scheduled for 2 PM Pacific, but that an emergency (one that wasn't ours) earlier in the day pushed it back to nearly 4 PM. He only came out recently, and right now they're paging the oncology team because his CBC numbers don't look great. His platelets are at 56, which is low but okay, but his hemoglobin, for some reason we don't understand, is below 8. It's not a good number and there's no good explanation for what's going on that made it take such a dramatic tumble. (It should, for all intents and purposes, be 9 or higher.)

You all know that I'm blunt, and I'll be blunter than blunt right now: I'm worried. Scared. Not confident. I'm scared that evil is winning this battle, plain and simple. Logan looks awful. He's exhausted. He can't or won't put weight on his legs. His CBC numbers are poor. He's incontinent. If ever there were a situation that looked utterly hopeless, this is the one.

In response to those observations, I am, for the upteenth time, begging you to lift him up in prayer in a new and awesome way. I vascillate between believing that healing is ours if we claim it, thanks to Jesus' sacrifice, and worrying that God won't see fit to make Logan well. I don't know the reality there. But the one thing I DO know is that the Bible says to pray, and to do it often. So please do so, for my sunshine.