It's quiet here right now. Most are still sleeping. The sun has risen. I have time to think.
But I'm going to be real here, sometimes thinking is not what I want to do. It's easier to deal with pain, worry, frustration, fear if I can stay busy, always be rushing, be concerned with "doing."
Thinking, that's hard.
It's been difficult here, here in our home and here in my heart. Aaron has not been doing well. It started oh so slow that we didn't really recognize it at the beginning of the year. Then like a train gathering steam, it chugged on, accelerating, pretty much rocketing out of control by mid-February. We (kinda) got it under the danger limit by the end of February, but still, that train kept moving.
In reality, it's been moving since the moment of his conception. We didn't actually realize it until that first ultrasound. Like all of us, that train moves constantly in the direction of death, but for some, it moves at a much faster pace. Sometimes we get to glide gently and smoothly into the station. Others face derailment, catastrophic overturns, or other painful ends.
That scenery? It's looking a lot better now. The train is still moving, but the speed seems to have slowed a bit. The increased dose of his first medication helped ease a lot of the pain he seemed to feel. That second med has made it so his legs and arms move more freely and without pain. He might be a little more tired, but pain is also exhausting.
We're getting laughter and smiles again.
He's going to church today.
Because of Him, we will live again. The grave is not the end. This life is not all there is. Pain will depart, bodies will be whole. We will live with our loved ones and enjoy their company again. Because of Him.
He is Risen.