My cell phone rang yesterday as we were driving out of Minneapolis/St. Paul on our way to 4 Paws for Ability in Ohio for the training of Nick's service dog. The excitement of our trip crashed with the news my sister called to share. My dad had a stroke that morning and was in the hospital. He was stable, but surgery was a possibility. A diabetic, this is dad's second stroke, and at 83, he's had increasing health concerns.

Driving away from my dad's situation was very heart rending. At the same time we were heading towards a moment we've been waiting for for months. The balance felt strange. As we drove, and I processed, I realized right now there isn't anything more I can do for him at home than I can here in Ohio. I can't cure him in either place. I can't fix his situation. Worrying won't change anything, and in fact does not help me. If I were at home, I'm not even sure we are at a point yet where I should drive the four hours to help out my sister and parents. Ultimately, the big idea is that I don't have control. And my peace doesn't come from the things that I can think of to do to help my dad's situation. That's my false sense of security. My peace ultimately comes from a God higher than I, not any "doing."

And so, we arrived in Ohio today. Me, thinking these things about my dad, and also crazy with excitement about meeting Nick's service dog Red tomorrow. What a strange mix.