laying Isaac down by increments

Abraham took the wood for the burnt offering and placed it on his son Isaac, and he himself carried the fire and the knife. As the two of them went on together, Isaac spoke up and said to his father Abraham, "Father?"

"Yes, my son?" Abraham replied.

"The fire and wood are here," Isaac said, "but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?"

Abraham answered, "God himself will provide the lamb for the burnt offering, my son." And the two of them went on together. Genesis 22:6-8

My Amelia is so often my Isaac. She is sick more frequently and more intensely than all the other children combined. I think it's probably her severe asthma that is to blame. This visage, her peach-cheeked beauty deflated into grayness, scared me sufficiently to send us off to the emergency room again yesterday. Her lungs are clear, her rapid influenza screen is negative. She is decidedly ill, probably from some never-to-be-named virus, as usual. Add to that the fact that she is scheduled to have her tonsils and adenoids removed tomorrow to improve her breathing and decrease the number of opportunistic infections she gets through the long Wisconsin winter. My mother's heart is screaming no, but I cannot sort out whether it is instinct or sheer, irrational fear that is speaking deep within. The plan for now is to go in for surgery and check labs, peer into throat and ears, take temperature, perhaps get a chest x-ray. And proceed if no alarm bells go off clinically. I guess I am on board with that, but it does feel like walking to the altar...again...the same altar I visited yesterday. The gray-faced 3rd daughter lying quietly in a hospital bed while I passively wait in the chair next to her, wait for someone to figure out why she's sick all the time. Wait for someone to fix her. I told my aunt this morning that I am bleeding worry, and what I really need to do is put a Prayer Tourniquet on it to staunch the flow. I've done it...but it still feels like that fresh worry-wound from yesterday's scare is leaking through.

Please lift my Amelia up in prayer tonight and tomorrow. Her surgery is scheduled for 8:30 a.m. Pray for grace and peace as I lay her down and let them wheel her in. Pray for safety and a quick recovery for her, and that the surgery will provide the proffered benefits of less illness and improvement in asthma. I found these lyrics from a Christian band, Tourniquet, thought provoking this evening. I strive to relate through prayer, not just demand, as modeled by Jesus Himself in Matthew:

When turmoil breaks through the shell of my comfort
my lack of a prayer life abort

An acrostic for prayer that I learned as a kid
praise and repentance, ask for others, yourself
but now in my lackluster state of affairs
give me what I ask for-beyond that who cares?

On a totally unrelated note, I found this monologue by a favorite blogger restored my hope in success as a homeschooling mother...despite fits of exasperation, complete downfall of all schedules due to long illnesses, and descent of our home into utter chaos at times! Read it, laugh, and take a deep breath: it's going to be okay!