“And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them. – Romans 8:28 “
I remember the breath-takingly surreal moment I found myself desperately waiting in the small room in back of the Outpatient Department. The nurse in me was anticipating the moment the emotionally and physically drained doctor would come in and tell me that my baby girl was gone. After all, it had been too long. Far past the appropriate amount of time we give someone in a code. A code? My baby was being resuscitated in this very moment? How in the world did we get from a nursing, smiling, sleepy baby… to this?
But the Mama in me…..the God believing part of me begged Him to save her, pleaded with him to show my church family in the waiting room…. that he was bigger than all of this. That if only He would perform this miracle, he would enable the physicians, the nurses, the staff involved to see just how mighty He was.
I tried to reason with him in my final moments before the words of my new reality would be spoken. In my last desperate attempt I told him that he could use this moment to change lives. That he could perform a miracle that would be talked about throughout this community….one that would ultimately lead people to him.
Then moments later It happened.
…..and as the physician entered I immediately began to scream no. No to what he was going to say. No to God because this was not in the plan. No because this was not happening, not my life, not my story. I refused it to be. The doctor did manage to say the words. That all attempts of resuscitation had been unsuccessful. But I had already knew that part. I knew that part when twenty minutes had gone by and there were still no more signs of life than when she had left my home. I knew that when one of my co workers who had checked in gave me the look to get prepared for what was next.
My faith had never been in the science.
My faith has been in God, but with the stipulation that he was going to go along with my plan. The miracle. The saving her part. The breathing life back in to my breathless baby ending.
Yet there we were. Small baby girl in my arms, proof of the attempts to save her still stuck in to her body. A white fleece hospital blanket and tear filled kisses that could not cover up the fact that time was causing her to become colder and colder.
Surrounded my friends and family and questions and whys?
Encapsulated by a God bigger than it all.
He could have saved her.
He could have changed the outcome of my story that early July morning.
He could have performed a miracle,
……but He didn’t.
Or so I thought.
Audrey’s survival wasn’t my story changer.
Her death was.
As painful as it was, it was our family’s survival that became the miracle.
The never ending prayers for healing from our amazing church family, My pastors gracious ability to love like Jesus, and every single day thereafter He gave me to go on.
The community watched as we wept, trusted, and healed. They became enveloped in our story…..in Gods strength and watched closely and questionably as He carried us through.
Audrey’s death ultimately led people to God.
All things I begged him for that morning.
All outcomes I prayed would come from my baby girls life.
Assumingly unanswered prayers; answered.
His way…..not mine.
Still a miracle….just one that took longer to see.
He’s here. In all of it. Working behind the scenes. Healing,transforming, preparing, saving, carrying…..
writing your story.
A story that may be unlike anything you would have written.
…..but with an ending that is ever so beautiful.
Because ultimately its not the miracle we really want……….it is the God that makes it all possible.