Grateful Grace

Home one and a half days after surgery is nothing short of God’s grace given to me. Grace such as this is unearned, has no equal, and is the empirical manifestation of God’s love for all. I tend to forget this when judging the non-blinker users and the parking outside the line participants. I knew these things but they have recently been reviewed, hopefully, not to be forgotten.

Grapefruit-size was the description given by the nurse practitioner/brain gardener. Harvest time was 11 hours — torture for Julie. I’m also certain the heavy lifting of prayers from friends and family called God to look in on the surgical team during the reaping. I appreciate the help bending God’s ear on my behalf, but it’s a terrifying thing to consider oneself in the Creator’s microscope. Terrifying is probably what Julie felt the entire 660 minutes bearing the core-rattling burden of focused Omnipotent presence. It’s a new, healthy fear I have.

Inflammation across the incision site, fullness in the ear, woozy feelings from the ‘done with that’ narcotics is how I’m doing now; swell in more ways than one. “Look mom I ate seven noodles, and I got water on my own,” says Lily on Monday and dad on Friday. I walk almost as good as baby Bea, and go to the restroom, mostly, on my own like Thomas. A lot of rest; Netflix and ill.

Surgeon and team will follow up following Independence Day making the pathology both literal and figurative. Dependence day July 6th. I am thankful for the help, love, grace, and support we have received. This collective outpouring and especially seeing Julie after shedding anesthesia, it’s hard to separate Heaven and Earth.