Be still, and know that I am God... Psalm 46:10
I have a hard time being still. Anyone who has been around me for more than ten minutes can attest to that. Over the last couple of months, the need to keep moving has seemingly kicked into overdrive. Maybe it's anxiety. Maybe it's nervous energy. Maybe it's the fact that as I type this Paige and I are in the ER for the seventh time in about nine weeks. Yes--another nighttime fever spike, another nighttime trip to the hospital.
I know God is at work here. I believe in His mighty healing power and trust He is simply adding yet another chapter to Paige's already amazing testimony. I see this girl getting stronger every day, fighting for just a little normalcy in her life. At the same time we continue to find ourselves in a crazy spin cycle dealing with the aftermath of the beating her body has taken over the last couple of years. Seriously, it's taken on the form of wash, rinse, repeat. And repeat. And repeat.
Paige gets the slightest chill, and I rush over with the thermometer. Her temp hangs in a certain spot, so I check more often and start getting our travel bags out. She hits the 'magic number,' and I'm on the phone with the on-call docs. Within minutes we head to Houston. Once we do make it back home, I stay on high alert--for much longer than I should, to the point of driving my girl--and the rest of our family--crazy. If Paige is feeling okay, I'm up doing laundry, cleaning--anything I can do to keep from sitting down for more than a few minutes.
Why can't I just be still? It's not like I think all that buzzing around is doing her any good. I do know that my mind gets a bit crowded with the negative stuff lately--like how tired I am of seeing my girl go through this again and again. How much she has missed out on. How stinking stressed out and exhausted we all are knowing there is no such thing as a routine of any kind anymore.
I know God is our Rescuer. Our Healer. Our Strength. I know He will deliver Paige--and the rest of our family--out of this whole situation in much better shape than we were heading in. He is here and has been all along. He isn't going anywhere, so tonight--in this ER room--I'm going to try and be still. I'm going to ask for His peace and calm assurance to wash over me like it has so many times before. I'm going to ask for His mighty hands to continue to heal my daughter. I'm going to be still and know that He is God.