Two years ago today I sat at his bedside. We were completely surrounded by beeping machines, wires, tubes, medicines and nurses. It was a cold place physically but warmed by the people that believed. At that point there didn't seem to be an end in sight. The tubes running from his small tummy to the various machines gave no indication of when he would run again. Or when he would even walk for that matter. Those were grim days. There wasn't a lot of hope in those first few moments and the belief that was needed seemed hard to come by.
However, the powers that were working in the silence were the ones that brought him and us to a different way of thinking. The prayers from strangers, friends and family were not only spoken but they were felt. Slowly his weak little body started to recover. He began to gain strength and with that came energy, following that came walking, then running. That was a great day.
The end that we had asked about, prayed for and weren't always sure was coming had arrived. We took him home and prepared for the rest.
That's why today was such a Great day. That's why last night was such a fun night.
Last night we wrote his name on everything in his backpack, later to find out we weren't supposed to. We crammed pencils, erasers, markers, colors, folders, Kleenex and you name it into a handpicked backpack. This isn't just any backpack. The wall he stared at full of them, had everything from Spongebob to Ninja Turtles. He had his pick of the litter. But his eyes were drawn to one on the bottom shelf, way at the end. It just seemed right to him. It was a little large when he tried it on at first. Mom and Dad weren't sure if it was the right fit. He insisted it was. When he spun around to show us what character it was he had chosen is when we agreed that he had chosen the perfect one.
He turned to reveal exactly what it was that had caught his eye. It wasn't the UFC logo, even though he was referred to as our little "cage fighter" while he was ill. It wasn't that it was red and black like the colors of his school. It was there at the bottom. A little bit off set, but big and beautiful. It was a Cross! And he immediately told us that he picked it so that he would have Jesus with him everyday when he went to school. We stood dumbfounded, for some reason, in the isle. What a bomb for a 5 year old to drop. He literally had his pick and he chose the One and Only! So that is what makes this day special.
This morning I woke him up with a big hug and kiss. His eyes immediately got that sparkle that you get when you know something amazing is going to happen. His clothes were changed in a flash and there was no time for breakfast. Not a bite. There was time for sitting and staring out the window however. He sat in anticipation, Cross backpack on and all, for almost 30 minutes. Waiting patiently for the van to pull into our driveway and start the process of being a Kindergarten student.
After a few snapshots by Mom and Dad he loaded into the van and was off. Tears filled our eyes and a lump formed in my throat. Was this the same boy that just two short years ago was so sick? Was this the one that we worried might not ever see this day? It was!! And those days of worry are long gone and the days of anticipation, excitement and the thrill of new adventures has taken over.
It's amazing how life can change and how our vision of what the future holds can be so different from what actually happens. I watched him haul off of the bus and run into my arms with a smile that wouldn't quit after his first full day of Kindergarten. It was awesome. His eyes are bright, his body is ready and of course his heart is full! And it is comforting to know that Jesus has always got his back, literally!!