Thanksgiving Came and Went

     As we tried to absorb the news we received and go into Thanksgiving mode, we couldn't help but walk around with a giant question mark on our faces. We took some family pictures that day and tried our best to join in the family festivities but it was so unbelievably hard. We had an EKG scheduled for the following Friday and it seemed to be this daunting black hole that I somehow had to muster up the courage to free fall into as I anticipated the appointment. Over the next several days and week, I completely submerged myself in Scripture. My God was/is the same God that He was thousands of years ago, and all those miracles He performed can and do still happen today so why not ask for it and expect it? I also received a lot of encouragement and was challenged by a few people about praying and believing in His healing power and standing on His promises in spite of what loomed over us. Okay, that's what I needed to do...trust and believe the same way that I do about my eternal salvation and destination. This will work, right?? In the next days that followed I had several specific incidences that were confirmation to me that He had heard my cry for help and healing and would answer. He not only gave me the name Pearl which means "precious, health and long life," but He confirmed His power through one of my friends on the morning of my EKG. I had been praying Psalm 77:14 ("You are the God Who performs miracles; You display your power among the peoples.") constantly He spoke it again through a text message. "Okay, God, I believe you. You've got this and I'm fully believing that you're going to prove these doctors wrong and they'll see a fully functioning, four-chambered heart." My first EKG came and we went with great anticipation and expectation of God's power in giving us a miracle. I had a paper with several Scriptures written on it and prayed them the entire time before during and after my EKG that God would open the eyes of the doctors to see that she was whole, that there was nothing wrong with her. We found out, however, that she did in fact have four chambers, but the left two were underdeveloped. She was diagnosed with Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome with an intact atrial septum. Not much hope was given to her survival unless we pursued extensive surgery and even then her chances of living were very, very slim. Surprisingly though, we weren't phased at all as the doctor drew for us a diagram of her heart and explaining to us in detail of what was going on and what surgeries they would need to perform in order to try and save her. I know our cardiologist thought we had to be crazy or just plain ignorant of what she was telling us. :) The peace of God was so strong that day! We knew that we didn't have to worry. Our God was bigger and better than these doctors and what they couldn't promise, He could!!

     Over the course of the next several months I had several more EKGs done and each time her prognosis just seemed to keep getting worse instead of showing any signs of improvement. I refused to succumb to the doubts, fears, and disbelief that raged against me. I literally felt like I was in such a strong mental and spiritual battle from then on. I blocked out anything negative that tried to make me doubt or question God's promise to heal. I believed and was completely convinced that I would see a miracle before she was born. Between the months of December and February, we experienced so much change, peace, and undeserved grace it was unbelievable. We were desperate for Christ. It's one of the best, hardest, and most effective place we can be. Desperate. Completely stripped bare of any "control" we think us mare humans can have on our lives. Desperate for an answer. Desperate for God to show us SOMETHING, ANYTHING that would make sense. And He did. He told us to stay put when we considered and were extremely close to moving to Indiana. He showered us with gifts, food, a roof over our heads when the house we were renting needed to be treated for termites, prayer warriors and friends to bear this burden with us. We were never alone. There was always, and I mean ALWAYS a shoulder to cry on, friends to lift us up and surround us with prayer, or a word of confirmation whether it was through a song, a friend, etc. He was right there with us the entire time. On December 9th, we had an anointing service at church for healing for our precious little girl. That same day, the Holy Spirit made it very clear to Brenton and me that we were right where we needed to be. That Bethel was our "home" and that our church was our "family." We felt so incredibly loved and blessed and encouraged that day. Even the anointing service was an experience I'll never forget. Jesus was there. He was real. He heard every single petition that was made on our behalf. My faith was made even stronger.

     After we got "resettled" in knowing that Florida was home for us, we had to look for another place to live because the house we were renting was in the process of being sold. Talk about having your world turned upside down! lol I look back now and wonder how in the world did we do it?? We didn't. We were in a million pieces trying to stay strong and hang on to our hope in Christ with every fiber of our being. And He came through yet again. He provided us with another house that lined up with our budget, He provided work and business for Brenton to start on his own. And it was over this time that He gave us her first name, Joscelyn, which means "joy and righteous." We had so many "wow" moments, and yet, I battled with the fact that I hadn't seen my miracle. It had been decided that because of Joscelyn's condition, I would be delivering at All Children's Hospital in St. Pete where they would whisk her away immediately after birth and perform surgery to try to repair her heart. So, I had to start making the 45 minute commute to St. Petersburg once a week and have an EKG done once a month only to prove that her condition wasn't changing but was in fact getting worse. She was growing well otherwise, but her heart was not. I was determined to stay faithful, stay strong, and stand on God's Word and His countless promises of healing. There were many times after my appointments that I would sit and cry my eyes out wondering why in the world we didn't see anything different on that ultrasound screen. Am I not praying enough? Do I not have enough faith? God, what are you trying to do?? Do you even hear me? I knew and believed that even up until the very last minute God could still give us a miracle. But did I seriously have to wait for that last minute? So many times He took me back to Matthew 9 where the woman that suffered from bleeding for 12 years reached out and brushed the hem of His garment, and Jesus told her, "Woman, your faith has healed you." (paraphrased) How I so longed to be able to just reach out and touch the hem of His garment and have my baby healed. I would've done anything to be able to do it. I felt like my way of touching His hem was being totally consumed and enraptured by Scripture and praying and believing in a miracle for healing. I refused to listen to any story or anything that was the opposite of what we were praying for. I wouldn't speak or think anything else because it felt like I would be going directly against what we were believing in and praying for. We were beginning to wonder if we were really supposed to be pursuing intervention at all based on her prognosis and the fact that it felt like we were praying for one thing, yet preparing for something else. (But that's for another blog.)

     As time passed by.....painfully slow at times, I knew that it would be at the very last minute that I would see my miracle. My strength was not of my own. Had it not been for Christ and our countless prayer warriors lifting us up, I would've crumbled like a ton of bricks. "....my grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." (2 Corinthians 12:9) At one of my EKGs, my cardiologist looked at me at the end of my appointment and said, "Get strong. You have a long, hard road ahead of you." Get strong.....how was I possibly supposed to get any stronger??!! I remember vividly a picture that God gave me one day as I was washing dishes and praying. Jesus was walking along the beach/this road we were on, but He was alone. He reached out His hand and asked me to take His hand and walk this road with Him, so I did. But it got too hard for me to keep walking and I grew weak. I then saw that He had picked me up and was carrying me as I was still carrying Joscelyn. As I rested my weary head on His shoulder, he whispered to me, "We're almost there, my child, we're almost there......but not yet." That is my strength. Knowing that Christ carried me so many times gave me strength to walk that hard, heart breaking road. He is my Cornerstone. My Jehovah Jirah. I pray that I will ALWAYS be desperate for Him.