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Gracie has been sick for several days now. As I was praying over her and giving her one last smooch and hug late Wednesday night before going to bed, I noticed she was burning up. She was asleep in the same bed as Macy, so I carried her into the living room to take her temperature. It was 103.5!!!! Mommies don't like to see that number on a thermometer. Ever. But my oldest sister who is a nurse has taught me not to freak out about such things. I gave her a dose of children's tylenol and something cool to drink. Then I made sure she was nice and cool and put her back to bed. But I checked on her several times. Her skin stayed cool most of the night. But Thursday morning she was back up to 102.8. No other symptoms whatsoever, so we figured we would just keep giving her medicine to control the fever, assume it was some kind of bug, and let it run its course. The fever stayed in control most of Thursday, getting higher as the medicine wore off, but never getting quite as high as the night before. So we figured all was well. But then Friday morning we noticed a tiny little red patch on her face (which honestly could be nothing more than dry skin) and a very strange and rather large red patch on the back of her right leg. OK. Doctor time. Now we're getting a little worried. I took her to the doctor. He wasn't terribly concerned. He thought the red patch was ringworm which could be easily and quickly treated with a cream that he quickly prescribed, but he ordered a lyme disease test "just to make sure," assuring me that he did NOT think she had it.

I had to take her to the hospital for the blood test, which was somewhat intimidating to her, and when we got into the room and she started seeing the "equipment" (read: needle), she was terrified. We were both pretty exhausted and frazzled by this point anyway, so I was incredibly tempted to feel sorry for both of us and let myself get carried away by that emotion. But OH how God loves me. So gently and sweetly and tenderly. Here's the thing-- The reason Gracie was so terrified of this blood test is that she has never had to have one. And that's what struck me. How blessed are Grace (and her Mom) that in 8 years of life she has never had so much as a blood test--certainly never anything more invasive than that? And there it is. The moment that changes everything. Suddenly I can't stop singing in my heart that God has protected my baby girl so strongly and beautifully all these years. Don't get me wrong. I hated seeing her afraid, and I always hate seeing her sick, even with just a little cold or whatever. But wow. To realize what so many others deal with and compare that to one blood test in 8 years. . . . . Well, let's just say I'm grateful.

She's still running fever, but still no other symptoms, so we're confident it really is just the same virus that seems to be going around. Nothing serious. Just something that has to "run its course." Sadly, it looks like we'll have to miss our church's block party tomorrow, which we have been SO looking forward to. So again, I'm tempted to feel sorry for us and what we have to miss. But I'm fighting it and telling Satan that he should go pick on someone else. We won't fall for that trick this time. God has blessed and loved and protected our family mightily, and we are choosing to be grateful (only by the grace of God who redirected my selfish desire to choose otherwise.) Thank you, Lord, for your gentle discipline. And thank you that my Gracie seems to be on the mend. Not as quickly as I would have chosen, but I trust that You have Your reasons.