Boo Boo's boo-boo

Last night, I had just shut the back door to get into the car to go sing. I was walking around to the front when I heard my mom beating on the window. She was screaming, "She hit her head!" I ran to the back door because I knew she wasn't being dramatic. As soon as I walked out, Sage had ran playfully towards my mom, tripped on the carpet, and hit her head on the corner of the coffee table.

Head wounds bleed--a lot. A whole lot. Travis already had a towel on it, but it was covered in blood. Their shirts were covered. She was screaming. They were all crying. He took the towel off for me to see; it was bad. I had a second to panic, get mad, get scared, or a little combo of them all, but no.......I immediately got down with her and started praying in the Spirit! THAT was amazing. She calmed down. Instantly. She didn't like the towel on her head, but we got in the car and sang, "Jesus Loves the Little Children." She loved that. I talked about how we'd carve a pumpkin the next day. I called Renea to call the church and let them know I wouldn't make it. That word traveled fast as several people called to let me know they were praying.

Sage actually thought her wound was really awesome in the mirror at the urgent care office. She was asking where particular people were that she thought would be interested to see. Sage is really smart, so I tried to prepare her a bit (without scaring) that the doctor was going to fix it, but mommy and daddy wouldn't leave. They took xrays and we sat in the office a while, but then it was time--the reason we were there.

The cut was right above the outer edge of her eyebrow, and it was deep--really deep. She tensed and screamed when they numbed it, but she never tried to get up. She cried the whole time, "Mommy! Mommy! I want you! I want me! (pick me up basically). Meeee!" It wasn't fun, but my mind went to the cross--how Jesus, in all of His perfect innocence and love, suffered for me. How God the Father agonizingly heard His cries and did nothing. Just in that mere instance of a (in comparison) small injury, I knew I couldn't have done it. I would have never even sent Him to the cross, but He did "for the joy that was set before Him."

It's interesting that in a time like that God reminded me yet again of how He loves us. He really, really, really loves us--and Sage. She's okay. She got 6 stitches, but she's okay. When we prayed last night, I thought at first she said, "Jesus touch my boo boo." but I actually think she said, "Thank you for my boo boo." I'll never know how that little mind works, but I don't think she was confused. She loves the Lord already, and she'll thank Him always. Lesson learned again.