Make That Five

Five surgeries under his belt, that is.

In surgeries like the one Joshua had last week, the chances are less than 1% that there will be a problem with major bleeding that doesn't stop from the surgical site.

We were awakened at 3:30am on Sunday morning to find that the odds were not in our favor.

Since the bleeding was off and on at first, the doctor told us to wait and see for a while. By about 9:30 am it was clearly time to go the emergency room, where we sat most of the day with Joshua, as an alarming amount of blood poured from his nose and mouth, soaking towel after towel.

So many people were praying for us that day, and in the middle of a potentially serious and frightening situation, I truly discovered what it was like to experience peace that defies understanding (Philippians 4:7)

Not that we weren't concerned, uncertain, and uncomfortable, but there was as definite and deep a peace as I have ever experienced in my life.

My little boy, uncharacteristically weak and lethargic, laid his head on my lap and I stroked his head with one hand and pulled nasty blood clots out of his mouth with the other. Phil read aloud from Psalm 91:

He will command His angels to take good care of you. (NIrV)

I couldn't really describe to you the way I could feel, almost tangibly, that there really were ministering spirits in the room with us.

But maybe I could describe some of the specific ways I experienced the kindness of my Heavenly Father.

It was in the friends we were about to call that morning for help with our kids who called us first to say they were praying for us and felt they should come and get Grace and Caleb.

It was in all of the hospital staff who showed extra kindness and attention to us.

It was in the parking attendant who came out of his booth and manually lifted the arm for my husband who forgot to validate his ticket.

It was when the surgeon, who had just told us that despite his best efforts, it would probably be hours and hours before we could get a spot in surgery, returned with a look of surprise. "I can't believe this but they're going to get us in in 30 minutes. You really don't know how amazing that is."

I do know how amazing my God is.

Most of the bleeding actually stopped on its own by the time he got into surgery and the actual surgical site that needed to hold was in perfect condition. It looks like he only popped one stitch - the one that was considered "extra" from the beginning.

Joshua has recovered well these last few days and his speech even sounds better than we expected it to at this point.

Everything doesn't always turn up roses and sunshine for us the way I think it should.

When we left the hospital last week, we were certain that we had at least 3 or 4 years before we'd be sending our son back into the operating room, not 3 or 4 days.

And there were a lot of other ways I would have liked to spend my Sunday besides watching asinine Sponge Bob cartoons while blood pooled under my child.

Those who trust in Jesus aren't promised a life without problems. Quite the opposite, the Bible says. But we have the assurance that He walks with us through every one of them and not one detail gets by Him.

He is before us, behind us, and His hand of blessing is upon us (Psalm 139:5).

We are so grateful to be His kids. So undeserving. But so grateful.