Turbulence of Heart

Waxing emotional tonight, please excuse the dramatic voice of my weariness. This thought has been churning beneath the surface all week. How do I find the courage inside to make the call to schedule this next major surgery? I've managed to busy myself out of dwelling on it most of the time, but the sinking dread and the relentless ticking of the changing season have made me feel at times an early chill of winter, and I know that the time to decide has come. Strange that nature seems to have once again echoed my heart. The fresh snow dusting the nearby mountaintops, this morning's unexpected frost on the windshield, my huddling against the warmth of my husband's back at night...can it be only October second? I reveled in the golden sunshine this evening that seemed a merciful wing protecting us from the black clouds to the South. Sometimes it feels so selfish to ask this again and again when there are so many pressing needs out there, but please pray for us. I look at my children and a part of me weeps with the impending mountains of pain that Audrey must still climb, and the impending loss of those days together with the other fantastic and fragile, fragile and fantastic four, the unknown length of time we'll be apart and the ways they'll need that particular touch of their mother in their lives, the way mom knows just the details to watch for to correct, comfort and counsel. I look at my amazing husband who works so hard for very long stressful days to provide, then comes home and comforts children, cooks better than I do, repairs our old cars and even older house, is everyone's favorite, gets little sleep and almost never complains. My hurt is full to bursting with love for them all, with the desire to protect and to heal and to fix things that cannot be easily fixed, and my soul cries out with all of my strength, Dear God, please protect this family.