When I had the surgery the other week, my pastor was in my room waiting when I came out of the recovery room, with his big leprechaun smile nearly breaking his face in two.
Also there was my Mama Nita and my "sissy" Stacey, Nita's daughter. Those two really are like a mother and a sister to me, I don't know what I would do without them.
We visited in the room, Rocky led us in some prayer for my speedy recovery, I don't remember when they all left, I kept drifting off. But I remember Nita telling me to make sure to let her know when they sent me home because she would be bringing supper to the family that night.
Before surgery I called my friend Sally, who also attends my church, because she is Sean's therapist (she VOLUNTEERED for this, she's a licensed adolescent therapist, doing this pro bono out of love for my kid and our family!) and Sean's therapy appointment was that afternoon. Sally came to the house, sat on the porch with Sean for his session (they usually go to her house), then stayed with my kids until Sam got home, even though I had assured her that they were old enough and responsible enough to manage for a few hours on their own. Her reasoning: the kids were probably scared for me and she was there to sooth them. Awesome woman, and she was dead on right.
They released me from the hospital the day after surgery and Nita sent over a delicious dinner of smothered steaks, mashed potatoes, and creamed corn. My dear friend Frances McKinley, the most beautiful octogenarian I've ever seen brought over one of her heavenly dump cakes, encrusted with pecans, NOM!
I got several calls from church family that evening, people seeing if we needed anything, etc. I felt so intensely loved.
And the next two nights suppers were brought to us by church family members Kelli and Nancy. I was overwhelmed with gratitude and happiness.
Went to church that Sunday, and my friend Tiffiney prayed over me, as did my cousin/friend Melissa, and everybody swarmed me, making sure I was okay, letting me know they'd been praying, and so on.
And while I had known it before, this all really brought it right to my doorstep: these people in this tiny church truly love me and my family. And we love them right back, and what a good feeling that is!
More and more I know that God led us to this church, that this is truly the place He wants us to be at this point in our lives. This is the place where Sam finally felt comfortable enough to make a declaration of his belief, a miracle in and of itself, he never believes things that he can't prove in a concrete way. But this place made him feel safe enough to do that.
Ian's faith grows stronger with every week, it seems. I think I may very well have a future minister in that boy. He would be good at it, I think.
Evan has the simple faith of a child still, he hasn't really "discovered" God sure and true for himself yet, but I see that faith slowly growing like a seedling, a little stronger and a little bigger all the time.
Sean.. well. He's declared he doesn't believe in God, and yet I have "caught" him reading his bible and praying aloud. I think he says he doesn't believe mainly as a form of rebellion against Sam and I, because he knows that on his faith we cannot command him to believe or not believe, we have to leave that to him. We do insist he attend church and be part of the church community, though.
But my church family, just.. wow. How blessed I am.
Thank you, God.
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