Chaia is still not fully rebounded from her bout with flu and congestion.
She lost feeds, lost weight...and for the first time since she was a tiny bean...she seems skinny. Her dunlop is done lopping over her pants.
Her strength is down. In the last two weeks, we can count the number of times she has crawled on one hand. She has reverted to rolling around.
But this kid is still full of joy.
She laughs. She chuckles.
You ask her what she is thinking, she puts one finger up to her lips as if to say 'hmm'.
She doesn't talk much so we started working on signing and she knows 'More', 'Please' and 'Thank You'.
You ask her if she wants to pray, and she folds her hands together.
When you say Amen, she unfolds her hands and claps.
She has a bunch of little teeth...chompers.
It was just over a year ago that we made it out of the hospital.
100 days of sitting...waiting...wondering.
And to be honest, her prognosis is such that we continue sitting...waiting...wondering what might be next.
The doctors likened it to sitting on a hand grenade or time bomb.
There aren't too many good scenarios that come from sitting on a hand grenade.
But I sense that we are sitting on hope.
Hope does not disappoint. In hardship...In delight...Hope.
In suffering...In joy...Hope.
Hope is not some sort of 'finger crossing well wishing positive thinking good vibes and energies kind of thing'.
Hope is that Jesus will be made much of irregardless of our circumstances and that we would find Him to be more than good and more than enough no matter our story.
She's a sweet kid. And there are moments where I sit in fear...in doubt...assuming the worst.
Then I remember its been a year out of the hospital.
And I sit back down on hope.
It's better that way.