It was the middle of June and it was a bad day.  On my emotional scale, the day was a complete train wreck, and it had barely even started.  I was 3 hours from home, away from my husband and boys, sitting in my daughter’s hospital room completely and utterly alone.  I, who try so hard to reign in my emotions, could not stop crying.  I was scared, I was lonely, and I was utterly broken.  This life was becoming more than I could handle. 

Was it just yesterday that I had taken her to the eye dr. to check for pink eye?  Was it just yesterday that the dr. had lost a bit of composure while examining her and dropped a foul word?  Was it just yesterday that we discovered instead of pink eye, the diagnosis was her shunt had popped through her eye?  In what seemed a whirlwind, we found someone to stay with the boys, and rushed Lydia to Philadelphia for emergency surgery.  The risk of infection from the shunt being outside of her eye was too great.  It landed us in the hospital for a 5 day stay.  I was unprepared.  I was undone. 

So, I cautiously opened my Bible and lifted a shaking hand to the only One I knew could offer me some hope of healing.  I opened to the Book that would be a soft pillow for my weary heart, and this is what I read –

“I will sing of the mercies of the Lord forever: with my mouth will I make known Thy faithfulness to all generations.”  Ps. 89:1 

I bowed my head.  With tears streaming down my face, and with a voice that was cracking, I began ‘to sing’.  I tremulously began to recount the mercies of the Lord in my life.  Again and again His faithfulness has been written all over the pages of my story.  Will I sing of them forever? Forever, Lord?  When my heart is breaking?  When I am separated from my family, and one of the biggest pieces of my heart is laying 2 feet from me hooked up to every machine known to man?  Can You give me the strength to sing unto You, even now?  And somehow, the words came.  Unbidden at first, causing even more rivulets of tears to come streaming down.  And there was healing in those moments, not completely, but the beginnings.  And after the songs, an assurance, a promise of declaration.  I will make this moment, and so many more moments of Your faithfulness known to the generation awaiting me at home, and all of the ones to come. 

You are the Great Physician.  You alone can heal this heart and give me words to sing to You.


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