Prior to this week, I never had someone puke down my shirt. Or in my hair. Or on my face. This week I had the privilege of experiencing each of those events, as Josiah tackled his first stomach bug. The gastrointestinal virus morphed into another illness (thank you, daycare, for making my child an immunologic giant) as the week wore on, keeping us all up at night. I begged God for mercy. As though He doesn't give me mercy every blasted day of my blessed, privileged life. As I changed Josiah's diaper this morning, reflecting on his seemingly constant state of viral illness, I powerful thought struck me. These sicknesses, which for Josiah are small bumps in road of his first year of life, are far less merciful to children in developing nations. In fact, diarrheal illnesses kill 760,000 children under age five each year (WHO). Is the life of any of those children worth less than his? Of course not. Do I live that truth? Sadly, no. I buy brand name diapers and Desitin, s
Two physicians and their little explorers sharing the love of Christ through medicine.