To become a parent is to become vulnerable. Vulnerable to colds and to diseases and to "nobody likes me" and to broken bones and to decisions and to decisions of young friends and to automobiles. It means praying until you're all prayed out. It means waiting to hear the front door open in the early days of driving. It means waiting for the phone call saying "we made it." It means hoping for all you're worth that faith -- deep, give-it-all-up-to-follow-him faith -- catches on. Deep love means vulnerability. It's part of the deal. God knows that, doesn't he? - - - - As Yogi Berra would say, we've experienced deja vu all over again. So much has happened that's taken us back to our Megan days: the treatment at Hendrick's emergency room, the medical flight to Ft. Worth, the intubation, the extended stay at Cook's. And now, once again, we're back under the AISD special education program. I always thought of that as a euphemism for helping people like Megan who are mentally handicapped. But I'm finding out it is over all SPECIAL education. And since Chris is going to be out for quite a while, apparently, he qualifies for the homebound program. AISD will send a teacher to our home. - - - - We've been really blessed this week to have Diane's sister from Tennessee, Donna Jo Meeks, and her daughter, Hannah (13), here. Donna has been our gourmet cook, our traffic cop with the phone, and a calming voice. Hannah has been Chris's buddy--especially on those days when everyone from here has to go to school. After a day of playing games, last night they watched "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" for the first time. Doesn't everyone remember where they were when they saw it for the first time? (I do -- because it was such a great film. Diane does -- because of Robert Redford.) Another highlight in the last couple days was when Scott and Chris Perkins brought over a tape of our basketball game from Saturday. I went to the game to help Scott coach, but it was hard without Chris C. out there. Hopefully, he'll be able to attend the rest of our games in his wheelchair. (Again, it's up to the pediatric BONE GUY on Thursday.) Yesterday was shower day, which is a major event when you're dealing with a back brace. We've been blessed once again by the loving care of one of our elders, Rex Nutt, who has often been recognized as one of the best physical therapists in Texas. It gives us a lot of assurance to have him here when the brace comes off. - - - - Soon I'll quit blogging about this all the time. I'll get back to the other stuff I'm passionate about--like community, discipleship, parenting, and guacamole. Thanks for listening and for praying, my friends. Especially keep praying for the Bourland family as they continue on the long journey of grief for their precious son.