Last night as I was driving home from work at 11:30, I did as I often do, and thought about my precious baby boy the whole way home. He makes me smile and makes the class I just taught seem less frustrating (not one student brought their supplies to class, despite being told every day for the last 3 weeks that they would need fabric to cut out their jacket on the 13th. . . ).
As I neared home my thoughts suddenly went from happy, to painfully terrifying. I find the best thing to do when you start crying because you've just imagined your child dying in your arms is to pray. So I prayed, and put a little more pressure on the gas pedal. Then I realized that there is really precious little that I can do to protect my son. Yes, there are the obvious things, I can sweep the floor, feed him good food, watch him closely and make sure he gets plenty of rest. But there is nothing that I can do to keep Gods plan, whatever it may be, from happening. I can't understand those plans either.
So I slowed down and trusted that God was going to keep my family safe, and believed that His will, whatever it is, is perfect.
When I got home Jonathan was fine. He and Kyle were in his room getting ready for bed - they had just got done eating some peas and brown rice (which, is disgusting by the way). I went over to look at him on the changing table. I saw something that was not right, and reached into his mouth. I pulled out a piece of plastic wrapping, that if it had been swallowed would probably have ended his life, or caused me to die of a heart attack. The plastic was clear and very hard to see, it looked more like spit bubbles inside his mouth than anything else.
We have no idea how the plastic got in his mouth. He'd gone from being in his highchair to Kyle holding him. So he must have had it in his mouth the entire time he was eating dinner - so, lots of swallowing, it just never went down.
I'm so glad that it's not just Kyle and I looking out for our family, God knows we'd fail - which is why I believe He stepped in.