Praise the Lord, oh my soul
My husband has a nine-inch slash in his side because a small spot above was massive beneath. There is a four-inch slice under his arm where two lymph nodes were removed. Forever, those scars will trace the line of our emotions: anxious worry to fear to fragile hope … all of it entwined with a peace that passes all understanding.
More tests will be administered. Regular checkups will follow. But all is well. And if I thought it hard before — to admit my fears and beg for your prayer, I find it harder still to put my thankfulness into words that will mean something — to you. I want you to feel how utterly lifted up we felt during this short span of endless days. When trouble rears its ugly head, the mind quickly jumps to what-ifs and then-whats when it should rest in the comfort of the One who controls each and every breath. But we are a weak people bent on our own destruction. How quickly we forget we are carried, not charging on alone!
Thank you, friends. Thank you for praying for my family, for my husband, for me.
We were kept by your prayers, and we are blessed.