The overhead light from the incubator cast an angelic glow over
baby John's
tiny body. It was quiet and dark in the pediatric unit despite
the many
premature babies that had been born. I stood gazing at the
miracle before
me. My nephew who had been so anxiously awaited for was born at
twenty-six
weeks. My mind jogged back to when my sister first told us she
was
pregnant. We were all excited since this was going to be the
first
nephew/grandchild born in our family of five girls. I
envisioned a bright
and chubby baby to spoil whenever I wanted. Instead, I had
traveled for
hours to be with my sister after her emergency c-section and was
standing
before my nephew who barely weighed over a pound. The music box
chimed out
"Jesus Loves Me" while I bit my lip to fight back tears. I
cried out to
God- "Why? I don't understand. It's not supposed to be this
way." He
looked so tiny and helpless. I was almost afraid to breathe.
Through my
tears I heard God's voice resounding in my ears- "Do you trust
me?" This
was not the first time I heard him ask. There had been issues
with money,
relationships and decisions where I needed to relinquish
control, but never
had I trusted him to pull a life from the jaws of death. The
music box
chime ended and drowning the silence now was the rapid beeping
of the apnea
monitor just above my head. Politely a nurse came by and gave
John a gentle
shaking.
"What is that?" I asked. She responded, "Most premature babies
have apnea.
They sleep and forget to breathe. We just give them a little
nudge to remind
them." My outlook on the situation grew even more grim. Again,
God's voice
came- "Do you trust me?" I thought of everything that he had
done for me.
The nights that I had no one, but he was there; the times he
cared for me
and loved me unconditionally. "Yes." I answered. I will trust
you."
Peace and a new boldness of faith came upon me. Physically
there was
nothing I could do for John, but I could pray for him. I could
believe God.
So, from that moment on the decision was made. I was going to
believe God
no matter what the situation looked like. Some people called it
denial.
But, there was no denying that the outward circumstances looked
grim. I
chose to trust God and have faith that he was bigger than any
problem that
John would face. The bible became my best friend. I recalled
the saints of
old who faced impossible circumstances: Abraham, Noah, Moses,
Joseph,
Daniel, Ester, Paul and even Jesus himself. Their faith and
perseverance
became comfort and inspiration to me.
At the time, my sister and I were staying at a nearby Ronald
McDonald house.
We quickly became connected with each family staying there.
Though each
situation was different, the affects were similar. There were
tired bodies,
broken spirits and hearts full of anxiety. Yet, at night when I
would lie
in the bed so unfamiliar to me, and lift my prayers of faith,
the presence
of God would surround me and hope would enter my heart.
Each day we would walk the short distance to the hospital and
every day they
would tell us that John had gained an ounce overnight. In our
excitement
they would remind us that most babies who were as premature as
John was,
were prone to infection and to become joyful was to only bring
ourselves to
a place of great disappointment. I would only smile knowing
that God was in
control and he was just proving it to me. Every day from then
on was touch
and go. Some days he would gain weight; some days he would lose
weight. On
one occasion he had lost weight overnight and had several apnea
occurrences.
I could tell that it was weighing heavy on my sister's heart.
The nurse on
duty walked up to the incubator admiring the "Jesus Loves Me"
musical toy
block the aunts had purchased for him. She smiled "That's
wonderful." I
nodded. She spoke " John, what a strong, solid name, it fits him
perfectly." The gold cross around her neck seemed to illuminate
when she
smiled and winked. I almost gasped at the love of Christ I saw
on her face.
Learning to trust God with a life as fragile as a baby born at
twenty-six
weeks was the one of the hardest trials I ever faced. Seems
silly when I
think about it. The God who cut a dry path through a raging
sea; the God
who took a lowly shepherd boy, five stones and a sling shot and
made him a
warrior; the God who delivered Peter out of a guarded cell; is
the same God
who cupped his massive hands gently around a frail body and
breathed life.
The same God who laid his hands upon the lepers, the outcasts,
the lame
placed his hands upon my heart and said "Fear not, only believe."
Today, John is a healthy, talkative and intelligent five-year-
old. Every
time I look at him I remember the past, yet I can't help but
think of the
future. He was the best teacher I ever had. He taught me to
have faith, he
taught me that God cares, he taught me that we are not here by
mistake or
chance, but by the grace and love of God. Most importantly, he
taught me
humility. For apart from God I can do nothing, but with him
nothing will be
impossible. We are not in control, but when we loosen the grip
from those
things we cling so tightly to, his tender voice will cut through
the icy
sting of disappointment and give us the courage, strength and
faith to face
the trials of life head on.
One day someone asked me if I believed in miracles. I thought
for a moment.
"No." I answered to the surprise of the one who asked. Then, I
continued "
I believe in the God of miracles. "
(c) Darlene All Rights Reserved
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