Waiting is hard.

When I heard about the results of the CT scan today, I heard words like "aggressive" and "ruptured" and "the mass is quite large". After the talk with the doctor and then holding and crying with Suzanne, I began to get impatient. We know this is serious, and we know what needs to be done. It tears my heart out to hear the raspy breathing coming from that little crib, and I want something done now. Now

I know that's not the way it works. I know he's in good hands. The nurse was just in and said he looks pretty good. So I'm not concerned about him getting the care he needs.

I just want it to be fixed. I'm his daddy and I'm a guy, which means I want to fix it. But I'm having to learn what it means to simply wait, to trust, and to pray. To be still and know that there is a God, and I'm not Him.

Ironic, really, that this time for me personally comes in the midst of the church season of Advent, which is a season of waiting. I've been preaching about what it means to wait on the Lord, and now I'm finding out first-hand what that means in my own life. I wish it were easier.

Lord, give me Your Spirit to accept this time of waiting.

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