Today was my day off. After arguing with myself, I decided to just sit and watch a movie. An old movie. An old, old movie.
This month we have a free channel: Retroplex. It plays old, old movies. Black and white. Early John Wayne. Etc. This morning it was a movie about Annie Oakley, my earliest childhood heroine, outside my family. It was a very good, old, black and white movie. The action scenes were interesting, as they are in all old movies. I was really enjoying it, in spite of dozen of questions from the 10 year old and almost 7 year old grandsons. They decided it was a good movie: guns, horses, Indians, old trains, bull wrestling, etc. Aurora was quietly playing with her favorite red Dodge monster truck and empty thread spools. (They make road edges...)
Then the call came. Dwight was being taken to the ER. His tube had broken and come out sometime in the morning. So much for sitting. I rushed to do all necessary to leave for who knew how long. Aurora was beside me step by step helping.
I then noticed the boys sitting together in Papa's big blue chair. Praying. For Papa being nervous. For an easy surgery. And who knows what all--just themselves and God.
But they were praying, first one and then the other. "Where two or three agree in prayer..."
I hate to say it, but the whole day was worth it to see those two exercise their growing faith.
It was a long, nerve racking day, about five hours at the hospital, but it ended good. A new tube inserted, altho it took two trys. He was back at Mill Run in time for supper.
Tim, Karin, Kristen and all five grandkids went to Build A Bear. I even went along--and I don't like Malls. We stopped in to see Dwight on the way home. Happy Papa. He was the happiest I have seen him in a long time. His smile, seeing all of us was the best and biggest we have had since all this started.
We thank God, once again for His faithful control and care of us.