Updated: Sep 23, 2020
To catch up on the previous posts about our SCIDS journey click here.
“There is nothing else we can do”
The words reverberating in my head, deep sorrow floods my heart...this is it, the end of the road. Trying to keep her oxygen levels over 85% is proving to be an endless, defeated struggle. There are no more pressures to change on the ventilator, no more oxygen they can give her. Her lungs are just not able to do their job well enough.
Pastor has come back this evening, to pray with us. He’s been here all day, but came back after we got the news. The waiting room is echoing with silent prayers. The ladies at church have gathered to pray. People all over the world are pleading with the Lord on our daughter’s behalf.
Just as Aaron & Hur held up Moses’ hands during the Israelites’ battle, they are our support; they are holding up our weary hands in this battle.
As we stand in her room, among the nurse and respiratory staff, I remain beside her bed, head down, just grieving. My head resting on the bed as I rub her puffy, limp little hand; the ventilator humming in the background, the sun setting behind the city buildings.
I didn’t take enough pictures of her. My heart fills with pain and regret.
How did I let this happen? Guilt starts to creep in.
I force my thoughts to truth, to His goodness. “I will choose you Jesus, no matter what. She is yours.”
Medical intervention has been exhausted, it is time to wait. Oh the agony in the waiting...but there are whispers of His presence, there is Peace that enters my soul, urging me to trust His sovereign will, His faithful love, in whatever comes next.
Pastor’s voice breaks the stillness, boldly declaring,“It is time, for this virus, to be gone.”
I breathe in ...and out... Yes, I believe He can... but will He?
Lord I believe. Help my unbelief.
I am tired of trying to control things, I am weary and exhausted. I will face what comes, knowing that He is good, that even if the worse will happen, His grace is enough for any grief or struggle.
Oblivious to the time, I sat with my head bowed, not even thinking anymore, just numb, eyes closed - almost afraid to face the next moments.
Eventually, I look up at her, her body paralyzed as the ventilator gives her breath. My eyes wander to her monitor. I see her heart rate, her blood pressure, but her oxygen saturation startles me, it shows 94%...we haven’t seen 94% for days! I am in shock, as if I were frozen in time, just staring at the monitor. Her oxygen goals were 85%, and now she was higher than that!
I know in this moment that God has healed her! The virus is gone! I sense the Holy Spirit powerfully in her room, I text the ladies at the prayer meeting, and I am sure that there are shouts of praise. The friends and family in the waiting room also feel His presence. I am in awe! My energy feels restored (or perhaps it is the adrenaline), I long for the staff to know God’s goodness, His great love and I testify to His work in our lives.
A miracle has happened before my eyes. God’s healing hand has touched her lungs. He answered our prayers in this moment, I could’ve missed it, had I not been looking.
“Blessed is the Lord! for he has heard the voice of my prayers” Psalm 28:6
This moment gives me courage to face the night; restful sleep comes easier on the Lazy-Boy. But the battle isn’t over, the sun has set on this day, and it will rise again tomorrow, with a new set of medical challenges to face.
* * * * *
If you have ever wondered if God hears your prayers, if He is even real? I pray our story demonstrates this truth with you. When medical interventions were exhausted, she was healed. In the midst of grief and struggle, there was contentment in my heart, a peace that came out of His grace and goodness.
“I lift my eyes toward the mountains. Where will my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.” Psalm 121:1-2
How have you seen God answer prayers in your life? Are there things you continue to seek Him for? Do you believe that He hears, even in the struggle?