Take A Look

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It was a Friday evening and my sweet little boy, not quite two years old, began to look like he wasn’t feeling  very well. His little cheeks started getting red and his beautiful blue eyes looked glassy.  I scooped him up and could instantly feel he was running a fever.  It was 100 degrees F. Time for Mommy to do her thing.  Off to the bathtub we went, a nice tepid soak with some playtime, snuggly pajamas, Tylenol and off to dreamland.  I felt confident he would feel better by morning. Children always get sick at night and more often than not,  it’s on the weekend when the clinics are closed. I moved forward with my plan to care for him at home one more day. 

The next morning he awoke to a harsh cough and a fever of 101 degrees F. Tylenol, cough syrup and a lot of lap time was the game plan.  My little guy became progressively sicker as the day went on.  By evening he was showing signs of having difficulty breathing.  It was time for the Emergency Room. 

We spent the next six hours in the cold exam room, waiting for a decision of him being admitted to the hospital or sending him home. They took some x-rays of his chest which showed he had pneumonia. They started him on antibiotics, cough medication, gave him a nebulizer treatment, then sent us home. They believed he would recover quicker at home.  We were scheduled to be in the doctor's office Monday morning at 8am.

Over the rest of Sunday until that Monday morning, his temperature continued to climb, with all of my efforts being futile. When we arrived to see the doctor on Monday morning, his temperature had climbed to 105 and eventually reached an alarming 106 degrees F. They x-rayed his lungs and found them to be completely full.  I was unable to visualize his little heart that was beating so rapidly.  Holding him was like holding a limp cloth doll. He could not hold up his head at all.  The doctor gave him an antibiotic injection and sent us home. We were instructed if there was no change by 4pm, to bring him for admittance to the hospital.  We all feared the high sustaining temperature would have lasting effects on my smart little boy.

Home we went, tears falling on his sweet little face.  He had not tried to speak, did not cry, just fought to breathe. Once home, he and I tried to get comfy in our favorite rocking chair by the window.  As he laid so quietly in my arms, I wept and asked God to heal my son.  His little body was so hot that it was turning me red and bringing me to a sweat. I hummed little tunes to him until we both fell asleep.  

I awoke at 3:30 pm and was soaking wet from his body being so hot for so long.  I brought him up to my face and couldn’t believe it.  His fever had broken!  He woke up and just smiled at me.  His breathing was easy and relaxed.  Early the next morning we were at the clinic again where they x-rayed his lungs.  While waiting for the results, I just kept thanking God for healing my son. The doctor came in with x-rays in hand and held them up to show me.  He was smiling, laughing and said “I have never ever seen lungs clear this quickly! ” The image showed absolutely no pneumonia, not even a trace of it.  My little boy was as clear as could be and showed no signs of any adverse effects from the high  fever.  I told the doctor, it was God. Only God.  The doctor said, “Well, it definitely is a miracle for sure!”

It was 2018 and my daughter was nine years old at the time. She came to me and confided she was experiencing discomfort in her private area. Upon examination, something was definitely not right because it looked like rotting flesh and it was so painful we rushed her to the emergency room.  They were unable to determine what was going on or what to do for her. They referred us to a specialist who would call us.  After two days of waiting on pins and needles, the specialist called to let us know it would be another week or two before we could get an appointment.  I was not okay with this. My baby was in agonizing pain.  There was nothing anyone could do to help ease her pain.  

Then I remember something from years ago.  When I was younger, my stepmother anointed me with oil and prayed over me. I know that’s what I had to do for my baby girl. As a last ditch effort, I gathered her into the bathroom with the remaining members of our family waiting outside the door, as I anointed her with oil, we all began to pray.  I went to war for my child’s healing.  We eventually tired and everyone went to bed. 

The next morning, I checked her again and what I saw almost left me speechless. 

There was not one spot or lesion on her body. Not one scar or faint trace that anything had even been irritated.  The night before had been worse than day one. But she was laughing and in no pain.  I knew that something beyond us had happened. With no medication or medical intervention, she was back to her old self. 

When we did finally see the specialist, they wanted to dry blood and run some lab work, just being precautious. Days later, we were advised the lab work indicated the Epstein Barr virus. We were told by the doctor for her to be cleared up from all signs and symptoms overnight was impossible. Except they held the test results in their hands. They were astonished and shaking their heads. The last thing they said was “it has to be a miracle”.  To this day, nine years later, there are no signs of the virus. 

There's room for you to share with us something wonderful that has happened.

 My girl came into this world at 24 weeks. The doctor's words echoed in my ears as they rattled off conditions and symptoms. But what I heard the most was “she probably won’t make it”. I already had two babies in Heaven so you can imagine hearing these words crushed me. 

They rushed her to the NICU where she would spend more than 100 days. As time went by, she got stronger and finally, after 96 days, the doctors said she could come home. 

Right before we were to leave the hospital, God sent a specialist in to check her eyes. He found she had detached retinas and performed 2 surgeries to try and help her. 

Ten days later, my girl was in my arms at home.  I’ve been advised that had she gone home at Day 96 as the original doctor said, she would have been blind permanently. 

But God showed up and showed out. He worked through the specialist giving my girl the gift of sight and I’m so thankful.