As the heat from her forehead meets my hand, I feel fear rise up in me. The fear that can so easily wrap itself around a mother's heart like a tightly grasped fist. It brings me back to the first days after she was born.
She was born on May 10, the day before Mother's Day. I remember the moment she was born, as the Dr. exclaimed "Happy Birthday little girl!" She was so incredibly beautiful with her long, dark, wavy hair sticking out in all directions. No one could have prepared me for how I would feel. It was love at first sight. Two days later, as we were preparing to leave the hospital, the nurse approached me and told me that they discovered she had an irregular heart beat. Fear as I had never known before gripped my heart. I had to stop nursing her, because she would become too relaxed and her heart would slow to almost a stand still, and the alarms would sound. She was attached to various heart monitors. The next couple of days were spent learning infant CPR and learning how to manage the heart monitor. I remember thinking some strange and erratic thoughts such as, "I wish I could just put her back into my body. She was safer there." We left the hospital with an appointment scheduled to take her to Duke University in Durham, North Carolina.
Once in awhile, I am asked why I believe in God. My reply is, "How can I not?" I didn't plan on this life. I sort of stumbled upon it. The funny thing about it, is that I never saw Him move in my life until I decided to follow Him. He is after all a gentleman. I didn't know I signed up for a supernatural life. It didn't take long for me to see Him start moving and aligning things in my life. Now I look back and see His big fingerprints all over my messy life. He works in wonderous and marvelous ways with what sometimes seems like no rhyme or reason.
So as I left the hospital that day, knowing my God was a great big God, I decided to take my baby girl to church. It was prayer night, and there were only a few people there. I walked to the front of the church and lay her on the altar. I gave her to God, and we prayed that He would heal her.
Two days later, we made the trip to Duke University. We had an appointment with a pediatric cardiologist. Upon arrival, I reached into the back seat to remove her infant seat from the car. As I looked into her tiny face, I was overwhelmed with love for this child I had just recently met. Fear overtook me and I started to weep. The Dr. spent the afternoon taking tests and studying her records. He finally came to us with his diagnosis. "Well, either she never had anything wrong with her, which I know is not true from her records, or God healed her." I looked at him and said, "Yes, you are right, God healed her."
That was almost 13 years ago. It's didn't stop there. Dr.'s spent the next year or so trying to figure out what had happened to her. When she was over a year old I was tested for Lupus because her pediatrician said that they find slow heart beats in babies born to mothers with Lupus. I tested negative for Lupus.
I have seen and experienced my share of miracles. Sometimes like this one, I have asked for them. Sometimes I have not asked for them, yet received them. Then there are the miracles that I have begged and pleaded God for, and have not received. That is when I have to choose to trust, because I believe all things are in His timing, and He holds the master plan.
1 Thess. 5:18: In all things give thanks....
Sometimes I have to remind myself that I need to be thankful in good times, and bad. This Thanksgiving may we remember that though we may lack, we have much to be thankful for and we can be confident that He knows what we need and that He has a plan for our lives.
Psalm 76:10-11: And I said, This is my anguish; but I will remember the years of the right hand of the Most High. I will remember the works of the Lord; Surely I will remember Your wonders of old.