It was a simple choice. One I had undoubtedly been destined to make. A choice that a power higher than myself believed I would and could somehow fulfill. With an army of angels behind me how could I fail.
I looked down at the face of the child I held tenderly in my arms. The child that had been planted and nurtured in my womb. The child God had entrusted in my care. His beautiful brown eyes stared back at me, almost as though he could see into the depths of my soul. He cooed at me as a small dribble of drool escaped from his pursing lips. He was mine and I had already fallen so deeply in love with him
and now I had just been informed our time together would be shortened. I rocked him gently in my arms as a single tear slowly rolled down my cheek. I was drained and feverishly afraid. Afraid of the true meaning of the devastating news that had just been given to me. I had just been informed my beloved child had an expiration date that would come far to early.
I wanted to scream, to run, I wanted to somehow stop the sorrow that now filled every corner of my heart. I had felt this same heartbreak almost 4 years prior, when my second son had been diagnosed with the same relentless terminal muscle disease. Here I was now again. Consumed with sadness desperately wishing it had all been somehow a horrific mistake.
I am not sure of the exact moment, ( and even though life was not turning out how I had hoped or imagined), I knew this was all part of some big plan meant to be. My sons were a part of me and it was up to me to let the world see the beauty they possessed. My sons were not some mistake of biology. They were miraculously created just like each of us had been. While physically parts of them may indeed be more fragile than most of us, both of my terminally ill sons are a design of Gods creation. Meant to be a part of the world no less than the strongest athlete. However it was me now, being called to help make whatever Gods plan was, to be set in motion. To ensure, that this very delicate life they had been chosen to live, would be fulfilled to the greatest capacity.
Now 17 years later I have the great honor and privilege to rejoice in my journey with all three of my sons. But especially today in my youngest. In more ways than I have ever dared to imagine, I have been blessed with joy beyond words, since that sorrowful day, years ago. It is with great pride and love I celebrate Josiah tuning 17 on May 21st. Happy Birthday baby, I love you.