It’s a helpless feeling to know that you are 3,000 miles away from your family when mini-emergencies happen. There is very little you can do to directly help things. I’m in San Diego this week for a conference and Mommy is left behind caring for the three boys. A daunting task on a normal day, not to mention when Daddy isn’t there at all for morning and evening duty.

It’s all the more challenging when someone gets injured, the driveway needs plowed or someone gets sick. Tonight, I just got word that our biggest boy came home from the first day of Vacation Bible School with a fever, and as it wasn’t breaking along with a few other concerns, the doctor suggested that Mommy shoot him over to the ER. (For those counting, that is 7 years of boys with no ER visits, and 3.5 months of boys with 2 ER visits – what is going on?) I’m praying that all is OK with my son this time but am also feeling very cut off from being away.

I’m heading home in the morning, but won’t be back in Virginia until evening. Thankfully, there’s someone in charge that is never far away, who we can always turn to, who never is out of our reach and can carry us every step of the way. So much bigger than I could ever be, even if I was home. (and no, I’m not talking about their uncle who gratiously is watching the other two boys tonight while Mommy is at the ER)

So as I head out the door and stroll along the waterfront, bathed in the western afternoon sunlight to yet another cocktail reception and dinner meeting, I’m thinking of my boy and I pray that we’ll both get home soon. See you tomorrow my loves.

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