So Abel is doing okay. He had an awesome day yesterday and crashed a little last night. He's on the respirator now & they're hoping to get his little lungs stable so he can get better.

I think I'm leaving Columbia tomorrow & some big chunks of my heart are going to stay here. I seriously, seriously have the strongest sister in the world. Tonight she is going to have to leave her precious little man-child at the hospital & come home to be a mama to two girls who have no idea what is going on in her heart. And she is going to do it well. And she's going to laugh some. Josh is the same way.

I had some expectations about this trip - I had about a million expectations. I expected to be at Katie's side when she pushed out little Abe & she did it so quick, I only heard his first little cries as I made it to her room. I expected to get to put Abel & Glor beside on another for countless pictures and they haven't met yet. I really want to nuzzle with my little nephew and his mom hasn't even held him yet, much less me. I made him some clothes & bought him even more and I wanted to take pictures of those back to Nick & Elias... he just put on his first pair of socks today:). All this to say... I have all these expectations, and I can't IMAGINE how many Josh & Katie have but it seems like the only instruction God is giving anyone right now is patience.

Katie and Lindsay and I had a glimmer of a conversation today that, to me, was really truthful and beautiful. Katie was saying that she had prayed for Abe all night last night and to have him decline today was so depressing and it made her just question the point of prayer. I had a similar conversation with my mom the other night about Glory's reflux (which is FAR less serious) and I just for the first time was really honest and said - I don't really have hope anymore. I have done nights and nights of praying and believing tomorrow will be different. I do know for sure that we're supposed to pray & I know that there is someone who is faithful that we pray to, I just don't know why we do it.

As Lindsay, Jon, & I were sitting outside the NICU - this obnoxious woman came to tell us about her grandson that was in there. I say obnoxious only because he's like three pounds - but doing awesome & will probably leave in a few days unscathed. Also - she was just a little annoying;). She started preaching to all three of us about prayer & how it works EVERY TIME and she even went so far as to say that lately all of her prayers had been answered & it sure seemed like she had a direct line. ohhhhh... I know her heart was good & I know she was trying to inspire hope in us - as pitiful as we probably looked kicking it on the floor outside the NICU. But she just got me thinking...

On days like today, prayer seems a little crazy. It seems really irrational and silly to ask for whatever we want and believe it will happen because some Jesus-Genie is going to provide it. But this is what does seem real: When we talk to Him, ask Him for stuff, praise Him, cry to Him, scream at Him, question Him, or just tell Him how we're feeling; we're remembering who is who. We are remembering He's God and we're us and He's in control & we're indebted. Most of all - talking to Him today is helping me remember how much He cares about my heart, Katie & Josh's hearts, and little Abe's heart. He's sitting with Katie and holding her up through exhaustion & turmoil. He'll be with me at three this morning when I'm telling Him I can't do it anymore... He just does love us so much & He loves to hear our voice. So Jesus, I'm sorry I feel a little hopeless on days like today. I know You can and do show up in big ways all the time. I know You've given all the good gifts and any response besides faithfulness is just crazy. Please heal Abel. Quickly. Please keep Josh & Katie as strong as possible. And please bless that crazy woman from the NICU.