I wish I had enough time to write the details of this story but not today.
Last night, after almost 4 hours of being gone on a (in my mind) 2 hour emergency call, Ryan still wasn't home. I would have been asleep and not really noticed (yes, I'm a good wife like that) except SCott woke and came in the room asking for his daddy who didn't put him to bed and hadn't kissed him goodnight. Fear came over me. I called and called. And in between calls I begged God to bring Ryan home safely. Watching the clock and knowing that Ryan would have usually called, I prayed some more and decided to call one more time before calling the other doctor and asking him to find Ryan. Needless to say, Ryan answered the phone and was safe. I didn't know to be glad he was safe or mad that he didn't call. But at that point, my prayers changed from begging to thanking God that he was safe and I continued to ask God to bring him home safely.
Oh thank you God... I really do like my husband, even if he doesn't take out the trash when I think he should!