Broken

My sweet little one.  May I be reminded of your strength.  Moreover, your courage.  With gritted teeth, elephant sized salty tears and those high pitch shrieks calling out for me, the damage was done.  Accidents that seize the heart and stop time of the ways we know as normal.  My mama meter's read out was hesitant at first.  Processing your anger and the shock.  May I remind you that you and your brother are all too often the epitome of roughandtumble.  Thus, our visits to the land of falls and scrapes are frequent.

But, you clenched my hand and your eyes peered into mine a distinct delivery of discernment.  One that pressed into my heart and pierced it just the same.  Anger filled my presence and prayers begin to follow.   Our pursuit to your prognosis was now::  Daddy, Mama and you.  I will remember your Daddy's fervor over your comfort and your closeness to him.  His loss of memory when asked for your birthdate by the emergency room clerk percolated into my motherhood role of task mastering and his papa bear hold on you.

Your serenity secured us.  Mama and Daddy watched on as your courage and calmness collected us.   As if you were there for our comfort.  Your manners were present and profound; your patience unwavering.  Contorted and twisted, you remained strong and steadfast for the x-rays to confirm.

It was broken. 

Your collar bone.
Our hearts.

My sweet little one.  Thank you for your poise.  Thank you for your attitude of optimism and healing.  For this tackle accident between you and your brother has stopped our normal for but a time.  And, has reminded your mother of God's grace and miraculous healing.  A sling for six weeks and your bone will shift on its own and grow completely back together good as new.

You are His.
And, He is so very present in you.

For being broken, I give thanks to Him. In so many ways.

Mama