For Brooks.

Brooks Wilder,

After a 12-hour shift at the hospital, which becomes 14 hours by the time I've left home and returned, one of the hardest parts is giving you what's left. It's easy to feel guilty because what's left... isn't much.

But as I rocked you tonight and soaked in your warmth, I couldn't help but think, I want to give you every last bit. Even when it would be so much easier to hand Daddy a bottle for you and head to bed, I couldn't stand to miss those precious final moments of your day.

My eyes, bloodshot and weary from watching the saddest stories flicker by, will never be too tired to look into yours, bright with hope.
My legs, sore from running down hospital corridors, are never too exhausted to bounce you in rhythm until you drift to sleep.
My arms, which ache as they pull patients up in bed, ache now to hold you.
My hands, scrubbed clean after changing wound dressings, now touch your soft, warm head.

You will always have first place in my heart, Brooksie, even when I go away for the day to be with patients. And I hope that when the day comes when God asks you to be brave and leave home and serve others, perhaps you'll see your Daddy and me and remember that with God on your side, you can. And you should. We've tasted and seen that when you spend yourself on behalf of the needy, God will give you what you need. Someday, I hope I will have the faith to lovingly push you out the door when you need that extra courage. Be brave, little love. Be strong in the Lord and in His mighty power.

I love you,
Your Mama