"I started to pray"

When Duane was diagnosed in 2007 we were both adamant about keeping a journal of how we navigated through his cancer.  That lasted maybe a week.  I do have some great letters to rely on and a few inspirational journal entries to reread when I feel low.  I did start to blog, it was therapeutic, I loved writing, sharing my thoughts to be forever burned onto the internet(for better and for worse).  It was almost immediately after my diagnosis of cancer that I decided to continue on that path of blogging, for me, for my own personal journal, a journal that I could share with whom ever stumbled by.  I don't want to forget the little tender mercies, the moments that someday I will cherish.

Early this morning, around 5 a.m., I woke with a panic. Yep, I was still in this reality of cancer, yesterday wasn't just a bad dream.  Instantly my tears started to flow and as much as I could stifle the cry, the audible sobs surfaced.  Each night my little girls have taken turns having a "sleep over" in moms room.  I like it, sometimes they fight over it, having a little body with me is comforting.  Last night was Hannah's turn, my rowdy, tenacious 7 year old.  As I sat on the edge of my bed sobbing, trying to be quiet, a little hand reached up and started to rub my back.  Can you just imagine what that did to me?  Being a mom is the best job in the world!  I quickly was able to pull it together, snuggle that sweet child, kiss her forehead and whisper "go back to sleep baby".

I took my sob session to the bath, hoping to hide the pain I was feeling.  As I continued to cry I became calm and relaxed.  At the time I assumed it was the wonderful smell of lavender and the sunrise that I was witnessing outside but as my sweet Hannah approached me this morning about my tears she explained that "mommy, I knew you were crying in the bathtub, I started to pray for you."  What an amazing moment, what an amazing feeling to know your child felt compassion, your child knew who to turn to, her Father in Heaven.  That was my tender mercy for the day.  My sweet Hannah, sharing with me the power of prayer.  I will cling to that power, that faith my 7 year old exhibited.  Lesson learned.