The hospital bed arrived today. We knew it was coming, but we have not been looking forward to the change. Well, I haven’t. I think Jason may sleep better without me up and down throughout the evening.
No more rubbing feet in the night, no more stealing pillows from my guy. I won’t be rolling into his warm spot as he gets out of bed to make the morning coffee.
I have a dear friend Jay Lyons, who is a producer that filmed our family for several days and put together this short trailer of our family. Watch and learn a new corner of our story.
Kara and I have spent a lot of time dreaming about Heaven together, and we always have, even before Kara’s current diagnosis. It’s something I’ve thought a lot about, knowing so many people who have gone there, and now more than ever I think about it. As I’ve shared before, having to prepare a 2-year old for what will happen with Kara is forcing me to really evaluate what I believe and what Scripture says is true about Heaven.
We have recently had a new nurse in our hospice care. Our regular nurse needed a break, and she took some needed time off to refresh and restore her heart. I’m thankful for both of these nurses.
Our new nurse figured out the puzzle of my pain in my leg beautifully. We have changed medication and my pain is much less. I’m tickled. But what has surfaced is an extreme exhaustion and a haziness that wasn’t there before.
I recently read an article about Gazan artist Nidaa Badwan who retreated to her bedroom after being assaulted by Hamas officers. For a couple of months, she barely lived, contemplating suicide and fearing leaving her family’s home because of the religiosity and conflict in the Gaza Strip. Eventually, she started enjoying her isolation and beautifying her 100 sq. ft. bedroom. It is now the subject of an art project and she has left her home only a handful of times over the last year. She says of her space, Everything is beautiful, but only in my room, not in Gaza. I’m ready to die in this room unless I find a better place.
