Happy Birthday Cody! 

And Happy Thanksgiving to all.  Today Cody turns 5 - and what a perfect combination of dates because we are SO thankful for him.

And SO thankful he's alive.  That is our focus today....nothing more.  Gratitude.  Seems crazy that 5 years ago today we brought Cody home from the hospital.

Little did we know what was in store.  I shared this birthday poem one other year and here it is again - with his age updated.  I wrote it for Cody a couple of years ago and it still applies.

5 years ago, on this day at 5:30pm, I heard the words...

"you have a healthy, perfect baby boy!"

That's what they told me.

They told me you were healthy - there was nothing to fear.

That's what they told me.

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What they didn't tell me....

was that 6 months later my world would topple

they didn't tell me...they didn't know...

that you weren't healthy

They didn't tell me I'd never stop crying

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They also didn't tell me...

I'd given birth to a hero

They didn't tell me...

God created a warrior in my womb

That every day of your life you would put on your armor and fight a battle no human should have to fight

and that you'd do it with bravery unlike this world has ever seen

They didn't tell me.

They didn't tell me.

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If I'd have known who I would meet on this day

5 years ago

I would have shrunk from the duty.

Not because I didn't want the pain.  Not because I didn't want you.

But because I'd have know how unworthy I was of you. 

And still am.

They didn't tell me that you'd raise me - not the other way around.

That all of life's lessons are hidden in your embrace.

5 years old. 

Yet you've lived more life, lived more pain, than most would know in a lifetime.

They didn't tell me how much I could love. 

How small I could feel.

How your illness has healed me.

You - perfect you.

They didn't tell me....

I'd given birth to a minister

who preaches a sermon with his smile

who lives in hospital rooms and in Doctors offices...

yet who still, after hours of having wires glued to your little head and monitors attached to your body...

after being poked, prodded, tied down - unable to move an inch, for the umpteenth time...

that you would manage the sweetest, purest, most innocent smile.  

A sermon in your smile. 

Oh, Happy Birthday, my darling one!