While I was away with the baby at a ladies retreat, my husband was home with our little boy who was sick and had a fever.
(AJ sent me this picture while I was away. I love how Ransom's still smiling even though he feels miserable!)
Coming home, after marinating in the sweet truths that it felt like God was dropping as gifts into my lap, it could be easy to slump into discouragement with a sick little boy to take care of, while trying to protect the baby girl from his bug. (Is it even possible to do that?! Perhaps quarantining him?)
Glamorous worshiping is done for now. The new reality of worshiping Jesus looks like honoring my tired husband by sending him to bed early. Right now my worship offering is going to involve a lot of praying for health and cuddles and wiping noses and washing hands and reminding Ransom to cough into his elbow and giving him lots of fluids to drink.
This is okay with me. I recall my Jesus washing feet.
"If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have given you an example, that you should do as I have done to you."
--John 13:14-17
Here we go!
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