Worship

I can't ever remember what day it is here in the NICU. For example, our hostess here in Syracuse reminded me that yesterday was Aubrey's estimated due date, which I had completely forgotten. It's strange to consider that I had every intention of being pregnant today.

I do know that today is Sunday, though. And I know that I miss being with my church family.

I know that I miss brushing Bronwyn's hair and tying it in ribbons to match a pretty dress-- a pink dress, of course. I know that I miss 2 little boys in matching shirts-- twin shirts, as Uncle Merrick would say. I miss singing my heart out in worship. And good teaching and preaching.

Yet there is a confidence in me that God is using my humble and simple acts of worship right here where I am, and that His grace is making up for everyone and everything else I am missing.

Yes, my brain is a bit mushy and my emotions a bit raw after 2 weeks straight of being in an intensive care unit most every waking moment, but even that can't keep me from noticing the people around me who are facing equal difficulties and are doing so without the Lord. I make gentle inquiries, offer prayer, extend sympathy. This time and these circumstances-- though not what I would ever ask for or choose-- give me an opportunity to worship. I pray that I will be faithful.

Take my will, and make it Thine; it shall be no longer mine.

Take my heart, it is Thine own; it shall be Thy royal throne.

Take my love, my Lord, I pour at Thy feet its treasure store.

Take myself, and I will be ever, only, all for Thee.