Week Five/Six

Our morning began at four thirty, with a letter fresh from Serbia waiting to be read.  Knowing I would be writing today, my mind was already spinning with thoughts of rescue.  I read of missionary efforts, of sacrifice, of hope and testimony, and I thought of my first born son, thousands of miles away, focusing his efforts on rescuing those who long to know the Lord.

Morning again at six thirty.  This time it is my second son, sleeping in the basement, who had asked for a wake up call. ”You get him,” I beg Greg, “I am too tired.”  I hear feet solid, treading down the stairs.  Voices whisper.  Sheets rustle.  It isn’t too long before I hear the voices getting louder and then Greg calling my name.  Still my thoughts spin of rescue.

I run down the stairs to see Greg holding Josh in his arms.  He is not well.  Suffering from hypoglycemia spurred by too much insulin, he lays restless in Greg’s arms.  Sugar filled paraphernalia litters the table next to Josh’s bed ––oreo’s, Capri sun, Gatorade.  Still, with all that sugar, something is not right.  I look closely and notice the left side of his face is sagging, left arm paralyzed into an unnatural grip, left leg hanging useless at his side.  Yes, something is wrong.

I run upstairs and google “hypoglycemia temporary paralysis,” praying, please let this be temporary.  To my relief pages and pages appear with clear instructions, do not leave his side, increase sugar intake, watch for cognitive ability to come back.  And still, my thoughts spin with rescue.  So father holds son still, and mother gives sustenance, seeks insight, and prays.   In the midst of it all a kind neighbor is rudely interrupted from his morning shower.  

At 7:15 this morning, worthy hands are called upon to anoint Josh’s head.  A blessing promises recovery from what currently holds Josh hostage.  And now we wait, mother and father watching as Josh sleeps restlessly.

And still my mind spins with thoughts of rescue.

What if we had not gotten there in time?  What if I hadn’t set that alarm?  What if no one had been there to offer the sustenance his body was desperately in need of?  What if the rescue had been too late?

I am filled with mother love, aching for a child in need.  Grateful for the priesthood, for a father who was there in time, for a neighbor who dropped everything to answer a cry for help.

It doesn’t take long before thoughts are heaven bound, and I think of One filled with Father Love, who aches for His children in need.  How grateful He must be for Priesthood ordinances and covenants shared and kept, for servants who are there in time, for followers who drop everything to answer a cry for help.

Tonight my prayer is simple ––this week let my thoughts be filled with rescue, to answer each cry for help… and let me get there in time.