Faith - "The Evidence of Things Not Seen"

The thermometer read 104 degrees - it was five o'clock in the morning and her cry assured me that she was very sick. A tepid bath was drawn and taken; a bottle made and drunk. The fever came down a bit - and plans were made to take her in as soon as the doctor's office was open.

I held her on my lap as we waited for the doctor to come in for the examination. Her fever already elevating again. He did what doctor's do first to little ones not feeling well; then proceeded to tell me his thoughts. He wanted to run a couple more tests. The nurse would be in to run the tests. The door closed and I was alone with my baby and my thoughts.

The thoughts went back to eleven years ago when I had awakened to find my baby's fever just as high. There was no opportunity to draw the bath, fix the bottle or call the doctor. As I sat there this morning, the tears came - as fresh and as new as they had come that Saturday eleven years ago. As I sat in that office and cried - I held my new little one close and wished that there had been something - anything that I could have done to keep my Ally with us just a bit longer.

The nurse came in and saw my eyes still moist with tears. She assured me that everything would be OK. Should I explain? I stammered.... "We lost a little one several years ago; and somehow the pain never quite goes away. My new little one is the exact same age; and I just hate it when their fevers get so high. Ally's was high too..." my words hung in the air; I could not finish.

They seemed to understand. They made sure that the doctor saw me before I left. He too had noticed my tears and asked about my other daughter. I tried to tell him; but I tried even harder to make my voice stop shaking as I related the memories. He assured me that he would call me with the results in an hour or so - or told me I could wait in the waiting room if I was more comfortable with that. A call would be fine.

The phone rang - the test results had given us answers and an antibiotic had been called in . The doctor himself called me back - and asked me to call him in the morning to let him know how she was doing. I am not sure if he was doing that for his benefit or more for mine. Either way, I was grateful. I headed out alone to pick up the medication. Alone with my thoughts and memories. The reminiscing quickly led to a conversation with God.

"Is it doubting your sovereign plan to wonder - review and wish that there had been something I could have done to keep her?"

Somehow I seemed to know that God understood my thoughts, feelings and fears. However, truth told me that a focus on 'what ifs ' would only lead down a road filled with spiritual detours.

I left that thought pattern and turned to the truth I knew:

*God is always good.

*God allows everything that comes into our lives; and if I but let Him beautiful things come from things that seemed completely hopeless.

* When God heals a broken heart he bring along people who are hurting so you can help them and give them hope that life does go on.

I focused on all the people that I have been able to minister to through the years because of this loss. Somehow, that fact alone seemed to bring everything into a clearer picture. I thanked God once again for the pain - asking Him to help me never forget - I need to remember in order to minister.
Once again, I was faced with the choice to place my life, my plans and my wants on God's altar and allow Him to work in my life. Would I entrust even my new little one into the hand of a God who loved her even more than I could ever love.

A few moments after ariving home phone rang. It was a pastor calling to let us know that a family in their church just found their little baby was gone just a few moments ago. He was heading over to them and needed our prayers. This couple needed our prayers.
Moments earlier when I was committing my little one to the Lord and trusting Him to do what was best - He was ushering this little one into His arms open wide - and a couple was left with broken hearts, broken dreams and the reality that death comes unexpectedly.

Please pray for us - this couple goes to the church that we are attending on Wednesday nights. I wonder if our house has not sold - and we have not been able to move from the area because there is one more family here that God has for us to minister to.

After the phone call was ended we prayed and cried for this couple. We have been there and we will walk there once again - this time with someone else.

"...Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me."

Resting ,Trusting, and Walking -- in Him,
~Martie