Where do we go from here?

We thought Wednesday would be a day to plan with Caleb's ENT surgeon.  I thrive with plans, concrete evidence, educated predictions, and expert recommendations.  Instead, on Wednesday we were greeted with the words: "This may not turn out the way any of us had hoped."

Apparently the tissue that the surgeon encountered on Friday during Caleb's unsuccessful ear tube surgery was unrecognizable to him.  He wasn't sure if the swelling was caused by an allergic reaction to the packing material that they used after Caleb's first surgery or if it's some kind of unhealthy tissue (cholesteatoma) like Caleb had had in his outer ear (although he said it didn't look like any cholesteatoma he's ever encountered).

According to the surgeon our best option is to wait 6-8 weeks and take a look at the left ear again to see if the inflammation has gone down.  In the meantime, he thought a referral would be in order to check with another ENT for a second opinion.  This of all the things we talked about was the most discouraging to me. This other ENT doesn't have any special training that our current surgeon is lacking.  He is just another set of eyes and ears who might have a new idea or just confirm the path that we are already on.  As a mom, that makes me feel like our current doctor feels tapped by the puzzle of healing my son's hearing.

Caleb was tested to see if hearing aids would be a good temporary option.  While he is on the border of needing them, his current small classroom situation made the audiologist and the surgeon opt out of the hearing aids. 

So what does all that mean?  Well, no swimming :-( and very careful showering as we do not want any new infection to take up residence in his already unstable ears.  It's looking more and more like any future surgical options may be over the spring and summer (hear: baseball season) so Caleb has to grapple with the reality that he might only be able to train with a team and not actually play in a game. And David and I need to make a decision about a second opinion.  We trust our surgeon, but the fact that he wants us to get a second opinion makes us wonder if more information would be helpful. 

I'm not worried about Caleb's schoolwork.  I'm not worried that he'll fall behind, but I do worry about how I see him retreating from people because it's work to focus and really listen to other people.  I'm concerned that he seems more and more able to tune everything else out and read while he used to be so quick to jump into the activities that were going on in our home.

My prayer requests are:

• wisdom for David and me to know next steps
• character growth for Caleb, that he will grow in being attentive, compassionate, and loving through this trial
• HEALING for his ears, resolution to the inflammation

And in the midst of all this, our hearts really are at peace, which shocks me because WE HAVE NO PLAN!  For those of you who know me personally, you understand how amazing that truly is.  And thank you!  Thanks for the texts, the emails, the calls, and the face-to-face "How's it goings??"  We know we are blessed to live in a community that truly cares!

Quick Update

There are Christmas cards to write, clean sheets to go on a bed, gifts to be wrapped, and kids to be picked up from school soon; but I wanted to update the friends and family who have been so faithful in prayer for our family, especially for Caleb.

Last Friday, Caleb and I went to the hospital for him to receive an ear tube in his left ear (the ear that had undergone surgery already).  The new eardrum had unfortunately not stood up well to the poor pressure from Caleb's Eustachian tubes and was already retracting into his inner ear.  To equalize this pressure, the surgeon wanted to place an ear tube.  This is a quick, easy surgery that takes about 10 minutes.  Unless, you're Caleb.

The surgeon came out of the operating room after 20 minutes and said that Caleb was not hearing well due to a build up of scar tissue in his ear.  The scar tissue also prevented him from inserting the tube in the ear drum to equalize the pressure.  The way forward?  Another identical surgery to the one he went through in September. Plus, two weeks of recovery time after the surgery is redone to remove some of the scar tissue and give the eardrum room to respond to sound.

Caleb was devastated when I told him and we are not excited about this either, but we're trusting the Lord and hoping that something redemptively beautiful will come of this harder road we are on.  On Wednesday, the surgeon will make a plan with Caleb and me as to how we go forward.  For starters, he said that Caleb has a lot of inflammation in the ear that needs to go down before a future surgery so we're looking at 2 months without surgery to begin with.

With eternity in mind but a 10 year old's heart before me, I'm selfishly hoping that we can get the left ear's surgery done well before baseball season and that we can find some way to allow Caleb to swim this summer.  Regardless of whether or not this happens, would you pray that our responses (Dave's, mine, Caleb's) reflect the hope that we have in Jesus?  That, in light of eternity, the next year or so of treatment is but a breath.

In other family news, Ben continues to plug away at his vision therapy.  We now make weekly trips to Fort Wayne Monday evenings for a meeting with his therapist to go over the week's exercises and learn how to do the next week's exercises.  Every morning Ben does 20 minutes of infant reflex, vision focus, and depth perception exercises before even leaving for school.  He has had SUCH a good attitude, and I'm grateful for the discipline of spending this one-on-one time with my son both daily and weekly.

In all these things, we feel pressed but not crushed, and I know that is due in large part to the prayers of God's people for strength, grace, and joy in each new day.  We love you!  And thanks for taking time the time to read and remember us.  It means so much!

Eternity on my Eyeballs

I started praying this a few weeks ago after both reading it in Gloria Furman's book and hearing it in an interview she did on a podcast, though she gives original credit for the prayer to Jonathan Edwards.  "Lord, stamp eternity on my eyeballs."  Lord, don't let me miss it.  Don't let me get bogged down in the waves of details that consume the little moments of my days.  Don't let me go another year without seeing how the daily intersects with the divine.  Stamp eternity on my eyeballs.

For most of my college years (and let's be honest... my 20's), I would remember the eternal when I had what felt like holy moments.  Time with my journal, the right mug of coffee, the perfect song, and the Word of God.  Then the children came along and seemed to interrupt the holiness of my life (ha!).  The journal collected dust on my bedside table as I rarely had a hand free to write, let alone a coherent thought after little or no sleep.  The mug of coffee was drunk for survival not for savoring.  The worship songs were silenced as I learned that my children would wake up if they heard even the slightest noise. And the Word... Well, even the daily routines I had in the Word to fill me up were replaced by lesser substitutes as my exhausted body bristled at the thought of one more thing on the "Good Moms Must ____" list.  If I didn't feel like the moment was holy, then I completely forgot that the Holy God was present.

Perhaps these thoughts are coming together because I got a full 8 hours of sleep last night and the night before that... and the night before that.  To all your new mommas out there, try not to hate me.  I've been there, marveling at how anything could be so unfair and awesome all at the same time.  Or perhaps these thoughts are stemming from the renewed vision God has given me for His Word.  I'd always heard that it's our daily bread and we should be in the Word every day.  After all, who eats once a week or even every other day if they have the choice?  But being the fallen rebel and perfectionist I am, I kept looking for the zen moment with the coffee and the song and the journal, rejecting the here and the now as second-rate.  Plus, who has the focus to read Scripture?!?  I can barely focus enough to finish a comic strip! 

Fast-forward to 2018, when I used a coupon to buy a Write the Word journal and spent the summer writing out Scriptures about faith.  I would sit down first thing in the morning, take the opportunity to write something I was thankful for, write the passage for that day, and then PRAY. Pray for the Word I had written to permeate my heart and my mind.  Pray for my children and the burdens of that day.  Pray for my husband and the challenges that we face in what feels like an us-against-the-world battle.  Due to all four children being home for summer vacation, it was a highly interrupted, often completed in three different sittings, and sometimes abandoned practice.  But the Word of God NEVER returns void.  Did you hear that?  Never.  Not the verse you read to yourself that's taped on your dashboard.  Not the song that weaves the Word into your earbuds.  And not my broken discipline of sitting down on a semi-regular basis to just write. it. down.

It began to change my vision and and reignite my faith in and love for the Word of God in a new way.  It was during this season that I picked up Gloria Furman's book, and started praying, "Lord, please... stamp eternity on my eyeballs."  And then the fun began...

Well, I guess that depends on your definition of fun.  I would liken the past few weeks of this prayer to body surfing.  Have you ever body surfed when the flag is green at the beach?  I mean... it's okay.  Every once in a while when a big boat goes by, you get a good wave that carries you a few feet.  Your heels are lifted from the sand and you float a bit.  But the past few weeks of praying this prayer have been like body-surfing when the flag is yellow and the waves are relentless, even overpowering, yet you know that it's the biggest waves breaking in the perfect rhythm that have the power to carry you weightless to shore at a speed that leaves you a little breathless.  And you what?  You just can't get enough of it.  And in the midst of those waves, there's also a strong chance that you won't ride it but will be thrown under and knocked into the sand and sludge at the bottom.  If that makes sense to you, I've been spiritually body-surfing in yellow-flag life waves.  Sometimes I've ridden.  Sometimes I've eaten sludge.

Lord, stamp eternity on my eyeballs.  David and I have found ourselves in the middle of a lot of hard lately.  It's easy for each of us to use our chosen coping mechanism (avoidance, fast fixes) to try to make the hurt disappear, but this prayer won't let me. When the difficulty comes up, the first question now isn't "how do I make this stop?", but rather "what is God doing here for the Kingdom?' Whoa. That is not how I think, but I'm pretty sure it's how God operates.  It's eternity...stamped on my eyeballs...and it's an answer to my prayers. 

I can't share all the details of the waves that we've been meeting out here, but let me just tell you, they're a lot more of them that we've ever met before.  And last Sunday, I drowned for a bit.  But on the whole, this prayer has me looking at the horizon, not with fear, but with anticipation that God is up to something good.  He is timing the waves, measuring them in the span of His fingertips, and is allowing us to ride them in trust, not to make us look good (because heaven know as much as I love body surfing I look super awkward out there) but to show off His power, His sovereign plan, and to draw others to Him for... eternity. And what do I get out of it?  I get to ride.  Lord, stamp eternity on my eyeballs.

And the joy of the ride has me hungering and thirsting for more.  More time listening to the Word of God taught.  More knowledge of how the Gospel intersects with our daily struggles. More of seeing God show up in the messy situations to reveal His glory.  More first-time experiences that lead to lifetime callings.

When I began this year,  I wasn't sure what I would do with myself.  Only one baby still at home during the day, and a low-maintenance kiddo at that.  Well, it doesn't take long for time to be used up, but my heart rejoices in the places where the Lord has invested my days and the renewed vision He has given me for the most basic of all callings that He has given to each of us...Love Him.  Love others. Do it for His glory.  For eternity.

The flag is up, and it's yellow.  And rather than be filled with anxiety as I hear the waves crash, I realize that with each passing moment our enemy's days are drawing to an end and the Kingdom of God is here.  So I write the Word again, give thanks again, and pray today one more time, "Lord, stamp eternity on my eyeballs." And I get ready to greet the waves and enjoy the ride.

Days Fly By

It's Thursday, exactly 15 days since we made the trek to the hospital for Caleb's tympanoplasty surgery.  And I just cannot fathom.  I cannot fathom the miracle that was worked by the doctor's hands.  I cannot fathom a community that showed up at my doorstep with meals, groceries, games, and surprises for our oldest.  I cannot fathom the gift of watching my oldest and my youngest enjoy one another so thoroughly.  I cannot fathom how fast 2 weeks of homeschooling went and the joy it was to watch Caleb learn about tribes native to our home state and how to diagram a direct object.  I cannot fathom the adults, teens, and children who have taken the time to come over and play games with Caleb.  Each day has been a marvelous demonstration of God's grace to us, and we are thankful. So thankful.  The days flew by.

Today I have a little extra time because... Caleb returned to school this morning.  In many ways, it was harder to see him walk out that door this morning than it was to leave him that first day of kindergarten.  We've had a blast, playing chess after lunch and watching old episodes of Wishbone.  Reading literally thousands of pages of our favorite books and laughing hysterically at Emmie's antics.  And it's hard to see the person you have protected so vigilantly... leave.  Leave the safety of the four walls of home.  Fair warning: I'm gonna be a hot mess when he goes to college.

Yesterday we had Caleb's post-op appointment with the surgeon and learned that Caleb is healing beautifully.  His external stitches are healing well, and the doctor removed some of the protective foam in Caleb's ear canal so we can begin treating the new ear drum with antibiotic drops.  At this point, he is predicting that Caleb's hearing in his left ear will be fully functioning in six weeks.  He has been cleared for all activity with the exception of swimming (the ear canal still needs to remain dry). This momma asked SO many questions, especially because Caleb has been struggling a lot to hear well with just his right ear over the past two weeks. 

As he was answering all my crazy questions, the ENT surgeon looked through the audiology reports that were done back in Marion at our very first appointment in August and explained to us that though the left ear had the more concerning cholesteatoma (unhealthy tissue growth), the right ear actually had the more significant hearing loss.  So of course Caleb's not hearing much!  He can barely hear through the left ear and has moderate hearing loss in the right.  This creates no end to frustrating scenarios in our house and makes us wonder how long Caleb has been making it by faking it.

We've been working intentionally with Caleb to help him admit when he's not understanding what we or other people are saying and to politely ask for instructions or information to be repeated, but it is NOT coming naturally to this kid.  I really do think he's been living via autopilot for months.  Completing the expected chores that were on his chart so he doesn't have to hear my requests.  Reading his textbooks at school rather than depending on verbal instructions.  Trying to guess what his baseball coach is whispering to him rather than admitting on the third base line that he has no clue what his coach is saying because in addition to being hearing impaired, he's wearing a helmet lined with foam to protect his ears.  It all makes so much more sense now, Coach Brant!

So we wait.  We wait for the left ear to demonstrate hearing capability, and we'll return to the ENT surgeon in a month to confirm progress and probably to schedule the same surgery for his right ear.  Not knowing how much he actually heard, I asked Caleb over our lunch of pizza at Costco to tell me what he heard the surgeon say in the appointment.  Thankfully, he understood most of the Q and A session the doctor and I had, but when I asked him how he felt about a second surgery, he said, "Reluctant."

Ain't that the truth? None of us walk into painful situations, excited to hurt and pumped to put ourselves in harm's way.  I can totally relate to my son and understand his hesitance.  But I also know that he, David, and I have all seen God's grace in tremendous ways as we have walked this road, which only increases our faith that our God is Jehovah Jirah, the God who provides, and we trust Him.

Still journeying with us?  Thank you.  We need you, and we know that when you say you're praying, you're not just being polite.  You're doing battle on your knees for us before the Throne of Grace.  It's a priceless gift that we can only repay with our gratitude.  Would you keep praying with us that God would restore Caleb's hearing completely?  And in the in-between, we'd covet your prayers for patience as we answer and re-answer questions and help Caleb to make it without faking it for the next six weeks.

No difficult situation in any of our lives is without redemption and purpose in the Kingdom of God, and I firmly believe that God is growing in our family a compassion that would not have been possible without walking this road with Caleb.  God is giving us eyes to see our own impatience as we say things over and over again until actual communication is accomplished.  He is reminding us of His love as friends drop by with a cup of coffee or a hug and a half-gallon of almond milk.  And He is encouraging us the He is Healer and Savior in this broken, sin-cursed world.  We pray that one day both of Caleb's ears will be able to find joy in the gentlest whisper, but even more so we cry out for the restoration story of each of our lives shine His glory to the lost.  Thank you for being our people and for demonstrating the love of God in Body of Christ so well. We could not imagine our lives without you!

Post-op Charting

It is unbelievable to me the sweet joy and blessing that seasons of pain can produce.  Yesterday was easy and hard, filled with confidence and surges of anxiety; yet David and I could feel your prayers carrying us as the God of all peace was ever near.  I want to respond to every FB message and text to demonstrate our individual appreciation for each of you who prayed or shared encouragement with us, but I'm terrified I would miss one of you.  Your words were seen, read, and used to comfort us.  "Thank you" doesn't seem like enough, but it is sincere and heartfelt.  

Here's what happened yesterday: Caleb was scheduled for surgery at 10 a.m., but due to complications in earlier surgeries, he wasn't taken back until 11 a.m. for his procedure. I was struck by the difference in taking a toddler for ear tubes and walking beside a 9 year old who was full of comprehension and questions.  Caleb was nervous but courageous and thoughtful in his conversations with each of the surgeons who came to talk to us.  I was a proud momma yesterday.

For us the time between 11 a.m. and 1 p.m. passed peacefully. David and I finished books, worked on projects, and took turns getting lunch.  Then 1 p.m. came and went, and my anxiety began to build.  The tympanoplasty was only supposed to take 2 hours.  By 1:45 p.m., I was wound pretty tight and could not wait for the recovery nurse to come get us to see Caleb.  But the recovery nurse didn't actually come to see us.  The surgeon did.

He explained to us that Caleb's ear drum was one of the worst that he's seen.  In order to do the repair and facilitate Caleb's hearing, he had to remove a damaged inner ear bone and implant a prosthesis behind the ear drum to replace that bone.  He also said that due to poor Eustachian tubes, he had to form the new eardrum out of not just a muscle graft from behind Caleb's ear but also some cartilage from the ear itself to add stability to the ear drum.  The extra twists that the surgery took were the reason that he'd need 45 more minutes in the OR.  He also stated that he was hopeful that he had cleared out all of the cholesteatoma (unhealthy tissue) so that it would not come back.  All in all, Caleb did great; and the left ear should begin hearing normally in two months.  Thanks be to God.

It took quite a while for Caleb to be alert enough for us to take him home (2 hours), and the oral pain reliever the hospital gave him after surgery made him nauseated.  Throughout the evening, Caleb would finally feel well enough to eat something so then we would try to give him pain medication, and then he would get sick again.  This cycle continued until we realized that the prescription medication was really the problem and just started giving Tylenol for pain relief.  

Last night was rough. Tylenol is great but has its limitations.  His pain spiked at midnight a while before his next dose was due so we spent a couple of hours of the early morning watching movies and trying to distract him from his pain.  At some point, I realized he had fallen asleep; and we got about 5 hours of sleep before the noise of our crazy home woke everyone up.

A new kid woke up with the morning light.  No nausea.  Controlled pain.  And a deep desire to play the brand new Wii games that a friend had given to him for this recovery time.  He's eaten toast (Hurray!) and is smiling.  He's not done with the pain of recovery, but I do think we're beyond the effects of the anesthesia.

In the middle of the night in the worst of the pain, many things were said about how this was just not worth it. And I get it. For most of my life, I assumed that if I was in pain, I'd done something wrong.  Sometimes that is true, but sometimes... it's not. As we talked about it this morning over a piece of toast, I was reminded that pain isn't always a sign that something is wrong.  Sometimes it's a sign that something wrong is being righted. And that it takes extraordinary wisdom to know the difference between painful, wrong choices and painful, right choices. Praying that on a day not too far from now, my son will know the good reward of this pain. Hearing.  

Your prayers are holding us up (along with an unhealthy dose of caffiene).  Thank you for remembering Caleb (and us) yesterday and for continuing to lift us up to the Father.  He is Healer and awesome in power, and we trust Him.

Say What?: The Autumn We Never Heard Coming

It's been forever since I sat at this computer and typed out anything coherent besides quick emails and facebook comments.  It feels a little foreign yet so good to be able to think out loud through the keyboard and tell a piece of the Grander Story that God is telling in our family's life, but I'm getting ahead of myself.  Let me share with you one of my pet peeves from the summer...

Setting: Me and four kiddos in the van coming home from the day's event.
Ben: What are we having for supper?
Me: Grilled chicken, salads, and watermelon.
Ben: Yum!
Laura: I don't like chicken!
Caleb: Hey Mom?
Me: Yeah, Caleb?
Caleb: What are we having for supper?
Me: (pulls hair out and refuses to answer any more questions)

And this same conversation happened all. summer. long.  And not just because my grilled herb chicken recipe is one of my all-time favorite foods.  Every car ride.  Every time someone asked a question, Caleb would then ask the same question about 3 seconds after I answered the first child.  I was beyond frustrated.  Come on!  You're 9!  Listen!

Finally one day I was sitting next to Caleb on the couch, whispering to him about something, and got zero response. Like none.  I tried to whisper a joke.  No response.  I whispered bizarre promises involving millions of dollars and professional baseball games. No response.  Since he was done with a recent round of antibiotic drops from an ear infection, I called his pediatrician who immediately got us into the ENT (ear nose throat) doctor for a check-up.  I was thinking it would be another set of ear tubes (which would make 8 sets for my children collectively) or a wax plug that the doctor would remove.

But I was clueless.  The doctor used a microscope to remove unhealthy tissue from both of my son's ears and explained that Caleb has an extremely rare condition called cholesteatoma in both of his ears.  In simple terms, at some point, Caleb's ears started rapidly growing unhealthy tissue to try to cover the hole left by his ear tube.  The tissue would die, shed, and fill up the ear canal and was very prone to infection (which we had seen all summer long since swimming season began). Also, it was putting pressure on his ear drum in his left ear, causing the ear drum which should puff out to cave into his Eustachian tube in his left ear.  In order to restore Caleb's hearing, Caleb would need a double tympanoplasty, which involves the surgeon taking a muscle graft from behind the ear to construct a new eardrum in his ear after all the unhealthy tissue is removed.  Our ENT is wonderful and admitted that he could do the surgery, but he had an associate who specialized in this condition and the operation in question so he referred us to his associate in Fort Wayne.

Before leaving that day, Caleb completed a hearing test with an audiologist who confirmed that he had mild to moderate hearing loss in both ears.   We were also forewarned that this was not an easy, quick operation.  The tympanoplasty will most likely be two hours long for each ear and will be a much more involved recovery process.  In addition to caring for the graft sight and not being able to hear from the ear operated on for about 2 months, Caleb will need to stay still for 2-4 weeks following the procedure.  Umm... can we stop here for a second?

Caleb is 9, almost 10. He loves baseball, football, and any game involving running.  After the surgery, he is not supposed to be involved in any kind of high activity games.  No jumping. No running. No wrestling.  No swimming.  He can walk, sit, and eat.  Every 9 year old's dream, right?  This was the information that broke my momma's heart most.  Long surgeries aren't fun, but long recoveries...devastating to a kid who is NEVER down for long.

I left the ENT trying to wrap my mind around the procedure and talk my very grumpy son back from the edge of ingratitude as he grappled with losing 8 gym classes.  Amazing how fast he calculated exactly how many it would be. Man!  He's good at math.

My son goes to an incredible school that cares for his heart and his mind.  As I tried to figure out what our lives would look like this fall, I called the school to get Caleb's teacher's phone number so we could talk through logistics.  The phone in the office rang and rang until my friend picked it up.  It wasn't her job, but she was there and she thought whoever was calling might really need something so she graciously answered the phone and immediately could tell from my voice that I wasn't okay.  I shared with her about Caleb's surgery, and she immediately said, "My son had that same operation with the same doctor! I can tell you all about the recovery, and my son can even talk to Caleb and show him the scar."  Oh my goodness!  I hung up the phone feeling grace and peace wash over me like a flood.  My God knew exactly what I needed to hear.  He knew I needed to talk with another momma who had been there and done that.  He knew I needed to remember that He was so very present in that moment.  One of the things that also came out of that conversation was learning Caleb would not be able to go to recess and really should be kept still.  I confessed that I was considering homeschooling him for the two weeks of recovery, and my friend confirmed that this would be a wise option.  She hung up the phone having encouraged me and given me Caleb's teacher's number so I could chat with her later. Grace upon grace.  But get ready for more...

When I connected the next day with Caleb's teacher, she let me know that she had special training and experience in deaf and hard of hearing education and would be incorporating tools in the classroom to make sure that Caleb didn't fall behind even as he struggled to hear. Beyond blessed.  There is only one fourth grade class in my son's school and it JUST SO HAPPENED that his teacher was specially equipped to meet Caleb's needs in this season. Thank you, Jesus!  She affirmed our decision to homeschool for his recovery weeks and to help us transition him in and out of the classroom well. Check and check!

Now to tell Caleb.  I really wasn't looking forward to this part, but several close friends and one sweet assistant principal promised to pray, and the results were beyond my expectations.  Caleb handled the news of his long recovery at home with grace and a sense of humor.  He wasn't thrilled about not going to school, but he was smiling as we shared with him the many ways God has already made a way for his hearing to be restored and for this year to be one of blessing rather than hardship.

Two weeks later, we went for a CT scan of Caleb's temporal bones and a consult with the ENT who specializes in tympanoplasties.  He decided to wait on the right ear and only plan a tympanoplasty for Caleb's left ear.  He was beyond kind and personable and answered all of this momma's questions.  We feel total confidence that we are where we are supposed to be for this procedure.  So on September 19, David, Caleb, and I will be driving to Lutheran Hospital for Caleb's new ear drum graft.

To the friends and family who have heard us process and share our amazement at God's grace in saving Caleb's hearing, thank you for listening.  Every time I share the faithfulness of God ...to allow us to catch this before the unhealthy tissue did more damage, to grant us friends who have been there, to give us school support like no other... I am reminded of His intense, personal love for me.  My heart beats joy and peace as we look forward to surgery and still peace and joy as I think of having my biggest boy home for 2 weeks.  The days may be long, but I know the years are short.  I'll take one-on-one or one- on-two (with Emmie) time any time I can get it.  If you don't see us out and about, it's because we are home, keeping Caleb in a low-risk environment where he won't be pushed or jostled accidentally.

Several have asked how they could help or what would be entertaining to Caleb during his recovery so here it is: pray.  Pray that the graft heals properly and the infected tissue is removed successfully. I know that my God can be glorified even if these things don't happen, but my momma's heart desires a completely successful procedure.  Pray for our family's relationships through this season of focusing so much on one child.  Pray for his siblings as they seek to love him without the usual full-body hugs and wrestling fests.  Pray for us to reflect Jesus in this process.

Nitty gritty stuff: if making egg-free, dairy-free food is in your wheelhouse or making an Aldi run is your gift, your help would be welcome. Not sure how easy it will be to get out of the house or how time consuming this recovery will be for me as momma.  If writing encouragement notes is your gift, I would love to collect notes from family and friends so that Caleb had some sunshine for each day of his recovery.  Also, if you are good at playing board games, Caleb would love to have someone new to whoop at Monopoly or Catan.  Kid friends are welcome to visit and play board games if they understand that Caleb cannot be touched, high fived, or hugged.  Depressing, I know.   If you don't have my contact info, just let me know in the comments and I'll make sure we connect.  But most of all, would you pray?  I'm prone to anxiety yet amazed by God's peace protecting my heart and mind from discouragement and fear.  And thanks.  Thanks for being the Body of Christ who walks with us in the sunshine and the rain. It's an honor to be a part of this community.