It's time for her routine MRI. Time to trace around the scars again, hers and mine.
They'll look in her brain for signs of that tumor. I hope they find none.
I'll look in myself for signs that I could handle any bad news that could come. I already know I will find none. Not inside, that is- only outside. Only in Him.
A moment ago I said to her, frustrated, "What in the world are you doing?!" She was swinging her body around in the living room, (I can't quite call what she does "dancing," exactly,) and papers were flying off the piano, when she should have been practicing. "I'm celebrating mama. I just played that hard song through twice!"
Celebrate, dear child.
Celebrate, and remind me and all the world that this fragile slice of life is worth celebrating.
I look at the calendar and do the math. Has it really been almost 7 years since her brain surgery?
We have new friends now, friends who did not know her when she teetered on the cliff that falls down into eternity. Yet she is really no more a miracle than any other child. Each one here today is here because God sustains; each one a gift of grace, a gift for a moment.
But God knows how this child, especially, shines bright joy into our lives, and her very brightness highlights the shadows.
Hold tightly to your Aggie-Sue-Cook-Peter-Pan. Sustain her smile, her generous heart, and her body, according to Your will. Thank you for the gift that she is to all who know her. In the name of Jesus, who loves her even more than I do,
UPDATE: MRI all clear!
If you don't know her story, start here:
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