We already know the results.

We saw the doctor Saturday morning. The exam wasn't too impressive on my son's knee. A little swollen, seemed to be sliding on the exam. The only way to know is to have an MRI on Monday. This has been hard. This has been such a gift. Of course, my son is crushed thinking about being out the rest of the season. He is a Junior. It will be hard to come back from this. Of course, it has hurt my heart. Last night we watched the John Olive Show that runs the game, while he paraphrases the outcome. As the film drew close to the time when my son was injured I grew anxious. As we watched the incident occur in the pile of players, my son grew somber, "all I can do is wait until Monday to find out," he says. I am so thankful to be waiting. When my husband gathered our son's stuff out of of the locker room, on Friday night, he said it made him feel strange, realizing his son had been here changing his clothes, preparing for the game, just a couple of hours earlier, now our son is hurt. As my son and husband watched the rerun of the game, they laughed at the kick-off returns where our son is giving us commentary about getting killed and preparing to be hit by a Mac truck each time. He explains to us how each time he is thinking of a better way to get up field and keep his head on. Such a special time in our family. I see the love on my husband's face for this young fellow. I feel his concern and hurt for our injured player. I see my husband gathering strenght from our son's humor and resilience. Monday morning we will know. We will hear the results and decide the treatment, but I am so thankful to share this crisis, such a small price to pay, and such a priviledge, to learn about loss, uncertainty and disappointments. The things we know to be true we don't need to wait for the results, we had the test this weekend and received good news. We have each other to go through this season of life.