Tomorrow has come

St. Jude is a massive hospital with a multitude of patients from every walk of life. As we went from appointment to appointment, there were mamas, daddies, grandparents, and sick babies everywhere. There was not one place you could go around here that doesn't have a bald head or a scarred head somewhere. Everyone is facing a trial and I can't tell you how comforting it is to be a part of this whole experience. Imagine you are confronting the most difficult trial you have ever faced and everywhere you turn there is someone else facing the most difficult trial they have ever faced. You draw upon everyone's strength and you never feel alone. When you cry no one looks questioningly at you, because they understand. Perhaps, just yesterday or the moment before they were also crying. Love abounds here and at times you could be sharing stories with another patient looking at the pictures of children who underwent the same struggle your own is about to face, and in another moment you may be grabbed by a nurse and given a hug. At other times there are smiles and within the same moment prayers rise because you meet someone who has received more bad news.

On to our day in particular, we started out speaking to the neurosurgeon, Dr. Klimo, about the upcoming surgery; then we had a check-up, and ended our day speaking with Tzadok's radiologist Dr. Merchant. We've defiantly learned the ropes around here and day two has been much better than day one. Let's just say yesterday I was in tears and tonight I'm not. There are two important things we have learned over the last couple days. First, you will walk and wait a lot and secondly we have been reminded that disease is not a discriminator between people. We have seen Amish, Jewish, Muslim, Christian and Hindus. If that is not enough diversity, we have seen poor and rich patients, Hispanic and African-American patients, along with Asian and Caucasian patients. Many patients are from out-of-town, while others are from the local area, however some come from other countries seeking hope. That is the thing that binds us all together in this hospital. Hope. We all hope. We all struggle. Tomorrow has come for us and we hope. However, we don't hope in doctors. Our hope is in YHWH Elohim. Please keep Tzadok in your prayers and please pray that Dr. Klimo's hands are unnaturally blessed. Pray for Rachel, the boys, and myself. Pray for our situation when we return back home, but most importantly pray that Tzadok is a warrior in just a few short hours.