Prayer personified

Ever since I've been back at work since Daniel's accident it's always been an irrational fear that I would someday get a patient that would know the story.  It's one thing if I choose to share information, it is quite another if someone formulates an opinion based on the news.  This past week, I met that fear.

Except, it was so completely different than what I ever imagined in my head.  I work on a Labor and Delivery floor, I have pictures of my boys on my badge. I obviously get the "how many kids to you have/how old are they?" question often.  Generally I say my youngest is x many months and I have 3.  I get tripped when moms inquire about all of their ages.  Occasionally, I will say Daniel would have been 4.5 years old.  A lot pry often and ask what happened.  Ugh.  Whatever.  Anyway, this past week, I got a mom who inquired further and this particular mom just said, "I'm sorry" with no other need to know what happened.  It was so wonderful.  And so sincere.  But it wasn't until the end of my shift that she said, a little quietly, she was part of a group that prayed for us; and asked if I was the one with the blog.  A wave of emotions overcame me.  This mom knew my story; this mom prayed for me without actually knowing who I was and we got to meet.  I don't even know if I can describe in words what it meant to come face to face with my fear and have God's mercy all over it.  All along I imagined this horrible confrontation about my skills as a mom and as a nurse caring for mom/baby and what really happens is love; a caring mother that reached out to the Lord on my behalf and prayed for us.  I don't know if she will ever really know what it meant to me, but it was the best night at work that I have had in a long time.  I am still reeling over it.  

He tends his flock like a shepherd: 
    He gathers the lambs in his arms 
and carries them close to his heart

Isaiah 40:11