Brittany's Little Peanut

A week ago I was asking if I was too young to be a grandpa. Tonight I'm wondering how much longer I will be one. Peanut was born on Monday morning at 8:08 a.m. and everything seemed right with the world. There were ten fingers and ten toes just like it's supposed to be. But, shortly after the delivery, nurses began scurrying around the nursery plugging Peanut up to this machine and that monitor, and putting tubes in here and suctioning there . . . it was disturbing. A time when surrounded by family and friends that should be filled with so much joy was quickly spiraling downward toward an uncertain end. It's now been three days of waiting, hoping and praying for a miracle. Peanut is sleeping in a new ICU at Texas Children's Hospital in Houston's famed Medical Center -- a place where the odds are beaten and miracles happen every day. His mom and grandmother are sleeping nearby at the House that Ronald McDonald built. An incredible prayer chain has been forged in the past few days with strong links from coast-to-coast. Some of these links are family, some are friends, but many are people that I have never met, in fact I will probably never meet. These are friends of friends, prayer partners from church congretations and businesses in states far from Texas all speaking to our Father in a single voice asking that Landon get well. It's incredible to think that there are hundreds, maybe thousands of people praying for Brittany's little Peanut tonight. I am indebted to them all. Tomorrow we hope to see some small improvement, always holding on to hope and knowing that a life with Landon would be so much more fulfilling and fun for us all. A week ago I was asking if I was too young to be a grandpa. Tonight I'm wondering how much longer I'll be one.