Sounds and moans race alongside the aches and pains in my back from helplessly watching her puke and shiver,
as if they are competing over who can make me lose my mind first?
But worry has already won that race.
Is it just food poisoning?
A stress overload?
Is it a baby?
Please not be a baby.

The hospital is an awful place.
Hospitals means being sick and nobody wants to be sick
Especially at 442am.

It makes it that more stunning,
that much more unbelievable,
that much more beautiful,
when Jesus shows up.

He’s there in the wink and smile of the guy in jeans and a blue gown doing laps
around the hospital ward.

He’s there in the moment of almost serenity when she drifts off to sleep.

He’s there in the knowledge that everything is going to be ok even tho everything is not alright.

He’s there in the broken prayers echoing down the corridor.

He’s there in the nurse who makes bad jokes while offering hands that steady, comfort, and hand out pills of relief.

He’s there.
Doing what he’s supposed to do.
Doing his thing bringing grace and peace to those who need it the most.

And tonight.
At 442am.
I’m thankful for that.
I’ll be the first to tell those who prayed unanswered prayers for parking spaces,
and wealth that God was busy being in the right place.