When you're no longer a productive member of society, what are you?

Heard a great Sara Groves song on the radio yesterday morning on the way home from work: Eyes on the Prize. I cried. Came home, showed it to Simon and we cried together. So fitting for life right now. It's a good song.

He's so tired. So worn thin. When do we get help? When does God intervene? It's not human help we need. We get the things done we need to. But how long can someone just get worse. How can you live in so much physical pain for so long? With no end in site and never any reprieve? Do you just suffer until death? But with no death in site? I know it sounds morbid. It is.

And we have our bright little A. And honestly, I don't know how much hope we'd have without her. We sure would have a lot more time together, but it's weird how we didn't enjoy each other so much pre A. I crave time with Simon now. Crave it. Just a date. A couple of hours at the bar or coffee shop. Just to look at each other and be, together. It's weird how having a kid makes time together so rare but so gratifying. And life is unbelievably harder since having a kid, but not necessarily in a bad way. And no one can tell you how your life gets better with a kid--it expands your heart and mind and life. And the joy you get from the funny way they say a word or a mannerism, immeasurable.

We don't have the same sort of life as a family with all healthy people would. I'm not complaining, and I wouldn't change it. Because our values have changed, and what's truly important has crystallized. And productivity is worthless. And Christ and grace have become paramount. And that is beautiful no matter how hellish the rest is.

But sometimes you feel judged and sometimes you are.