Thinking and Waiting

William started walking at 10.5 months.  I remember thinking that was 6 weeks earlier than Owen had started.  Owen started walked the week he turned one - it only took him days to go from one or two steps to 9 or 10.  William, on the other hand, took his one or two steps at 10.5 months, then the next week added a step, then a few weeks later did five or six, then back to four, and by his first birthday was walking those same 9 or 10 steps Owen had been by his birthday.  Interesting how they both arrived at the same "spot" in such different ways.

I was reading early this morning - Jon had an early shift today.  He wakes up at 5:15 and is out of the house by 5:40.  Normally I have no trouble falling back to sleep, but today I ended up reading instead of snoozing for that peaceful hour before the children wake up.  I looked at my bedside table and had to make the decision between my current novel ("The Wednesday Letters") and a small devotional book called "His Promises".  I picked the devotional, and flipped open to a page.  (I like to do that - randomly pick a page.  That way, if it's something that perfectly suits me for that moment, I feel like God directed me there.)

Anyway, I turned to a paged titled, "He Goes Ahead of Us", which focuses on John 10:4.  "When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice."
I immediately pictured my two little boys learning how to walk.  Any toddler, of course.  When we teach them this fundamental skill, we do not stand behind them, and cheer them on from behind.  We do not give them a gentle nudge, wish them the best, and turn back towards our cup of coffee.  You know how it goes; at least one adult stands or kneels just far enough away as to entice the toddler to strive to reach.  Too close would be too easy; too far is unrealistic and setting the toddler up for failure.  We make the call - how far can they go today?  "I'll move this far away, and with praise, encouragement, guidance, and maybe even a little help, he can make it this far.  I know he can!"  Then, once that goal has been reached and there has been a little celebration, we take it a step further back and try again, knowing that life's requirements dictate he will need to be able to make more than three or four steps in a row to succeed. 

How our Heavenly Father is the same!  It always comforts me to imagine God in this way, and it's become so much clearer to me since I've become a mother.  But as I start a journey into a daunting and admittedly scary place, I know that God is guiding me along, challenging me to take each step because He knows I am able.  He goes before me - each step I take, He has taken before.  What a comfort.  I hope it comforts you too.  I am well aware that in my circle of friends, I am NOT the only person who has, is, or will wander into unknown territory; who is in the throws of making decisions; who faces something fearful.  Often the saying goes, "God is with us."  In cases like mine, and maybe yours, perhaps, "God goes before us" is even MORE reassuring.

Just a thought.

If you were wondering, I am still awaiting a phone call from the Cross with information regarding my CT scan.  I am expecting to hear soon - the clinical trial nurse (Leslie) wanted me to be done my antibiotics from Christmas (two more days) before I start treatment.  I hope the CT scan will be beginning of next week so we can start treatment immediately afterward.  Would like to get this ball rolling.  Thank you for your prayers.  We are feeling very "at peace" with our decision.  My philosophy regarding the 50/50 chance of getting ipilimumab vs. placebo:  We will pray that I will get the drug.  And if I don't get the drug, we will pray that it is (a) because I don't need it, and (b) someone else who needs it gets my share.