The Worry…

***This is something that has come up again this week! While you’re reading and pondering, we’ll be at the doctor…again!

Until next week…



For almost 5 years, I’ve done a whole lot of worrying.

I worry about germs. I worry about sleep schedules. I worry about doctor’s appointments. I worry about the future.

I think it’s in our nature, right?

I was talking to a friend and she told me that I needed to “cool it with the hand sanitizer” after I watched her kids lick ketchup off the ground.

It stayed with me all day. It bothered me. It ate at my fragile psyche.

But I remembered…I am a Hand Sanitizing, Clorox wipe toting, Lysol spraying fool. I am preserving my son’s life. That is not me stretching the truth. You see, he can’t get a stomach bug, because he can’t throw up. Him throwing up could seriously damage his GI tract. He also has terrible lungs, and is immunocompromised.

So, yep, I worry. I want to preserve his life. I don’t want to hear how a pound of dirt is fine to eat in a year. I don’t want to even RISK taking my kid to the mall play area or Chuck E. Cheese. It’s not worth it to me.

This has put me in an isolation–we’re hermits. People don’t call anymore. They don’t check on us. They think we’re bizarre.

I may be all of those things, but my son is still alive. And he will be…for as long as God entrusts me with him.

Do little things get to you? Are you a worrier? Wanna sing Kumbaya and make S’mores?

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