Life Humbles Me

Well my life has been nothing short of wacky, chaotic and wild. My hubby left for a Jamaica mission trip 10 days ago and the fun began that night when in Greenville, my baby decided sleeping is for...not him. He grunted and coughed and gagged all night for um...well, 9 days.

As if his sweet lullaby wasn't enough for his then roommate (me), he decided on the home stretch, day 10, the night Wes would return, to have collic-like symptoms. He screamed for well...five hours. The only way he would be soothed was to be upward. On his back would bring out this piercing cry. "Who is this baby?" I often thought. "What do I do?", I thought even more. Followed by an occasional two-year old tantrum, I found myself, eyeing the wall, which seemed rather inviting to ram my head into.

Then a call from my husband en-route back to the US would bring the news that he had developed a rare rash known to Jamaicans as "Scratch Root" all over his arms. Contagiousness was a fear of his...which meant no contact with the boys. And all I could think was, "I...need...his...arms"

So after many tears were shed by my boys and later, myself, I found myself crying out to Jesus...with the only words that came to mind being, "carry me".

Later through the evening, after Walker finally settled in, and I finally got a moment to sit in quiet, I realized that the arms I needed all along were not even Wes's. Rather, it was my Savior's arms that I needed...and that were gracious extended to me.

Only in His arms, did we all finally find rest.

So after a rather peaceful nights' sleep from both boys, a safe return by my hubby, a good diaper blow out by my baby, and even the good news that his rash is not contagious, I find myself laughing and crying...

"thank you Jesus for... carrying me...in Your arms."

plenty of pics to come of the last 10-day-journey