Waiting with unknowns.

My mind has been as a pendulum. 

Swinging from one side to another. 

One extreme possibility to the other. 

Might. Might not. Might. But might not.

Nothing. Or everything.

Which answer will it be? Where will the swinging stop?

Will our daily normal continue?

Or.

Is monumental change planting its feet firmly in our midst?

Left to right. Right to left.

Practical. Emotional. Dizzy.

Which way should my head turn?

I feel like I need to "pick and choose" what the answer will be. Like, right now. But there is no way to know. And that is hard.

I see these images as clearly as anything...

When I turn my gaze to the right, there is light and sunshine.

A car zooms by.

A convertible carrying carefree, untroubled passengers, 

heading to the open road, unblocked freedom in its view.

When I turn my eyes to the left, there is darkness and silence. 

Bent, foreboding trees cast black shadows 

on the rough ground. 

 It is sad. And scary.

I continually turn to look back-and-forth 

between the opposing, contrasting paths.

Uncertainty.

Waiting.

30 days.

Thirty. Whole. Days.

720 hours.

A forever of waiting.

Now reduced to 14 days.

336 hours.

Relieved. 

Impatient.

Fearful.

For our child.

There had been tests. Upon tests. 

Image scans taken. Then more images. Ultrasound.

Then the discussion from the professionals.

The dim room was softly somber. 

Scenarios hung in that quiet air.

More tests coming soon. A brain scan could be.

"Let us do the worrying for you," said our gentlest doctor. 

Sad smiles, struggles from the staff to give reassurance

in the midst of the possibilities ahead.

Tears. 

Hiding tears. 

Glimpses of smiles and whispered, repeated "thank you, thank you"

for the kindness shown in the clinic.

Run to the bathroom. Wet eyes.

Return to the little ones, and attempt to smile again.

Fear. 

For our tenderhearted child. His future.

For ourselves. Our stamina. Our hearts.

Fear of dizzying depression.

Sleepless nights.

Furrowed brows and tight breaths.

My mind cannot imagine what the one path may mean. 

(That dreaded "worst case scenario" path.)

It took me more than 24 hours before I could even say *those words* aloud. That maybe-diagnosis.

To put *those words* in the same context as our precious boy... 

still not quite possible. 

Hurts my heart and squeezes my gut tight. I may pass out. Or be sick.

But at least I could (kind of) say *those words*, even in a whisper.

Can't even type *those words*. 

Too harsh of a potential reality for this tenderhearted momma yet.

If we hear bad news in 2 weeks:

Is God still good?

Is God still loving?

Is God still for us?

Oh, how easy to slip away from our solid knowledge of God
into the emotional frenzy of fear.

This is when knowledge and FAITH merge into a sweet spot.

They just must.

What can we rest in?

"I did my best, it wasn't much
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you
And even though it all went wrong
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah"

(Leonard Cohen)

For today, for this moment:

What is the truth?

We do not know what is ahead.

God does.

He has a plan. He does have our best interests at heart, for our good. 

(It may not be easy. But it is eternally good. We will be rescued.)

We have no control over the coming news.

God does.

Prayer matters.

God has given us promises.

We are not alone.

He is here. 

The body of Christ is here.

We are tempted and swayed to believe lies.

That God is not for us.

That we will despair.

That we will not have the strength to face that "worst case scenario" looming.

That depression and despair are inevitable.

(Truly, we cannot do this on our own... 

But with God's power, 

it is completely different.)

The path ahead may seem long to us.

But it is a path in a bigger picture.

It is not an abandoned path.

It may seem scary.

But. we. are. not. alone.

When tempted with these lies hammering our spirits and minds and hearts... 

STOP and remember: 
WHAT IS TRUTH?

Trust in His promises.

Rest in those promises.

Stand firm. Gird up. Seek to follow Jesus. Eternal perspective. Peace. Faith to shield against the fiery attacks. The Word. Prayer. 
(Ephesians 6. Philippians 4.)

Recognize the lies. 
What is truth?

We do not know. But we can seek after our God who DOES know. 

And who will carry us along.

Dear friends and family, your prayers and your support and love impact us so, so much.

Psalm 46.

John 16:33.

Blessings at this temporary crossroads,

Elizabeth

(Thank you to Omaha Children's Hospital and Medical Center for their incredible care for our family.)
(Thank you for the messages and hugs and meal and more.)

(Special thank you to Pastor Glen Lozier, for meeting us and for his wise counsel to Nate and me.)