Tuesday, November 11, 2008


I am guilty. Today I have been taught a lesson, a humbling lesson.

Emily has not been doing well the past two days or so. They had to give her a blood transfusion, put her on 100% oxygen, and give her injections for her stiff lungs. It's been tough for me, so I can't imagine her parents. I must say that I have never felt closer to babies other than my own. I love both of these girls very much. I prayed for quite some time last night for Emily. I just couldn't feel the connection...like I knew anything. In the past when I have prayed, I have had feelings that told me something about what was going on. Blessings from God to guide my prayer because He gave me a special call to this family.

I am guilty of not being humble about my prayer. It's hard to stay humble when someone comes to you for prayer and gives you the feeling that you provide them hope, even if that hope is through the gift of prayer. The gift of life is not within my power, it is only in God's. While I believe they know that, I was still allowing myself to loose some humility in my thoughts on the subject. It's quite embarrassing really, and I don't like to admit it here, but I felt that I should be open about my sin with anyone God should lead to it. Let Him use my sin, be it for good in someone elses life, or just for the sake of acting in humility after the fact.

How did this lesson come about? Well, I have been praying for Emily today. Distractions have come up, but I have been trying to work through them. I have been watching for messages from Brie- my spirit knows when to watch for them somehow...like I don't know how! It's a God thing folks. He tells me when to watch carefully for them. So, after this morning's outing to our friend M and B's house, I was sitting at the computer typing out another e-mail to Vicky about Emily. Brie called me. They were on their way to the hospital. Don't let me skip over the detail that this happened about an hour and fifteen minutes ago. This lesson is recent and I still don't know where we stand with Baby Emily. The doctor's called them to come because they don't think Emily is going to make it. What could I say? I was speechless mostly. My heart breaking for them. For her. It's just terrible news all around.

Then I tried to pray. I was praying, but not with the focus I wanted to. Smiles was fussing, not wanting to go down for nap. Then I tried to walk out into the living room holding him and bouncing him. Curly had her light on and I snapped. She was supposed to be sleeping. I yelled at her with fury and probably scared her quite a bit in my angry voice, "Curly (insert middle name here)! You WILL get in your bed. You WILL turn off the light, and you WILL go to sleep NOW!" Ben was fighting me in my arms. I was getting angry with him as well. I started to pat his bottom with more gusto than necessary.

What was going on?! I have been doing very well with not yelling recently, it's something I struggle with a lot, but as of late since I haven been turning a corner in my spiritual life things have been more peaceful at our house. I knew at that moment that there was a battle going on for my attention. Someone didn't want me to be praying for little Emily with the fervor that I wanted to be giving. I immediately set my boy down and fell to my knees in prayer. I mean "on my knees, face in my hands which are lying on the ground, full of tears" prayer. I won't go into all the details with what came out my mouth, but at first it was fully focused on getting my distracter out of the way. Then came prayers of sorrow and humility because God showed me that my heart was not fully where it should be. I was reminded that HE gave me the urge to pray in the first place. HE is the one who gave me faith and understanding of what was going on at certain points. HE was at the center, not me or my prayerfulness. I sobbed for many reasons and asked forgiveness.

Then my prayer changed slowly. The spiritual tone was becoming different. I realized that my faith would not be enough. I was reminded though, of the story about the man that was lowered on his mat through the roof to Jesus. By the faith of his friends he was healed. Jesus, you are my friend. Your faith is not fathomable. By Your faith, not mine, heal this child. By your mighty faith I pray that you would give her life. Many other things came to my mind and there was a newness of prayer. Eventually there came peace. HE gave me the words to pray. This peace is unlike the other that was present with Allison. Does that mean that she was healed? I cannot know, I am not HIM and I have not heard word of whether she is still with us or not. I can only know that there is peace and my worry is less. There is hope in my heart.


Laurel said...

Your honesty is BEAUTIFUL! Thank you for sharing

While today's anger with your kids is totally understandable, if this really is a problem that you struggle with, check out my blog for a great book recommendation.

Blessings to you and your precious family!


Vicky said...

I think I may need to introduce you to Laurel someday :) Wanna take a road trip? ;)

I'll have to tell her that we have definitely checked out her book recommendations!