We went out to the local park tonight. As I observed others, some looked completely comfortable and at ease, like they were entirely confident being out in public.
I wrestled internally with wistful dreaming, that I could operate the way that I saw others, as I wrestled with my mask, evaluating my heart rate spikes, sitting before standing escalated to pre-syncope, all the while wondering how the rest of the world does it, or more specifically, how mommas with chronic illness, lung and cardiac issues, and extremely suppressed immune systems do it.
There were those thoughts.
These are the other thoughts:
We did it tonight. We stepped out in our brave, and we loved (most) every minute of it, especially Elijah. I’m not always physically equipped to take on the park. It helped that it felt more like a May evening than a late July evening, with the fresh breeze and the post-rain refreshing hint of almost cool that occasionally tickled our arms. It helped that the kids were angels.
But the taste of normalcy, as abnormal as it was, was as sweet as the ginormous snow cones that my children inhaled. I’m thankful for the meds that make it possible for me to have an evening in 5 and 7-year-old paradise with my two favorite little people in the world. I’m thankful for the reminder every time we step outside that heaven seems to be breaking through just a bit more apparently. I’m thankful for the chance to be active with them (in my own limited way), and I’m thankful for good hours, when the pain, fatigue, and cognitive difficulties are lifted just enough for me to say, “let’s go to the park.”
Tonight felt like a miracle.
Earlier today, Elijah said, “Mommy, I’m going to pray that God makes you better today.”
And he did. We both did. His prayer was answered. God made me better tonight—better enough to play on the playground with him and his sister.
These are the answered prayers I collect. These are the twinkles that I see in the eye of my Father, as He makes His strength perfect in my weakness. And this is what leaves me dependent on Him always. He’s a good God, when complete healing is still waiting in the wings, and I love Him so much.