A Tangible Miracle

“Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” Hebrews 11:1, King James Version

You know how people say to just look around and you will always find a miracle? The story I am going to tell you today is a very personal one. One that, if you know me, I am sure you have heard before. It’s about a tangible miracle.

When my husband and I married, we had dreams of having a family. He would always say he wanted a dozen kids, and I would adamantly shake my head and say that I would be happy with just two.

By the second year of our marriage, I started wanting a baby. However, I didn’t know that the issues I had been dealing with since I was sixteen would play a role in the outcome. At such a young age, I just thought having a heavy menstrual cycle was normal. It wasn’t something that people talked about. I dealt with the pain and just kept moving forward. I had been to the doctor, and they had placed me on a hormone that would help regulate the cycle, but there was no information as to what was going on. After I married, things progressively got worse. I would have days where the pain was unbearable and I had no energy at all.

At the time, we had no medical insurance, but I knew that I needed to be seen by a doctor.  I needed to work and still continue to live life, yet I was having such a hard time even getting out of bed. I had no energy. I was finally able to schedule an appointment. They diagnosed me with anemia due to my iron being extremely low, which explained not having any energy. Yet, the news I would receive next left me feeling devastated.

The doctor came in and told me very matter-of-factly that I would never have children. No other explanation. I just sat and stared at him. There were no other words given. Once I recovered, I instantly became angry. I was mainly angry with this doctor for his poor bedside manner and the fact that he had no other options for me.

I left that office in despair.

I had no idea why this was happening. I knew that God knew my heart and that He would be there for me, but over time, that same faith began to waiver. I received prophecies that I would have children. I did my best to hold on to those promises from God. Yet, my symptoms never changed. They only got worse. No one could tell me anything.

At this point, things began to feel like the story of Lazarus. Look at John 11:4.

“...This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified thereby.” KJV

Great! I could definitely hold on to that!

During one service, a highly respected man of God called me out. He told me that he specifically saw a yard full of toys and reminded me that God knew the desires of my heart. He said I would have children. After service, his wife came to me and told me that any time her husband gave such a prophecy, he never saw the individual again until after the baby was born. How right she was!

A year or so after this prophecy, I was in my living room praying when the Lord spoke into my spirit and said, “Your move will be quick.” I was so confused. I had no plans to move anywhere. This is where I grew up, and all of my family was here. Little did I know that God had something in the works to test our obedience to the voice of God. Not long after, my husband and I felt a call to pastor a church in Texas. Never in my wildest dreams would I ever move away from the place I grew up.

We obeyed the voice of the Lord. We moved to a place we had never been before, without any promise of a job. Yet we made sure we obeyed.

Over time, God opened up doors for employment for both of us. As for my physical health, things were not any better. I found a doctor who specialized in my symptoms and made an appointment. After the first appointment, she diagnosed me with PCOS, Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. She felt certain she could help me. What a relief!

Little did I know that things were about to get worse.

One afternoon, six months after I started on the medication they had prescribed, I began to feel excruciating pain in my lower abdomen. I was bleeding profusely. I was at work alone. There was no one there to help me. I made it to my phone and called my husband. He showed up and immediately took me to the emergency room. Once again, no one could tell me why I was experiencing the issues I was having. I went back to my doctor to follow up, and she said the medication was working as it should. The only other option would be infertility treatments. I declined. 

I left deflated. How was this a good thing?

Now let’s quickly look back at Lazarus. Remember how Jesus told Mary and Martha that Lazarus wasn’t sick to death? Well, he comes back in John 11:14.

“Then Jesus said unto them plainly, Lazarus is dead."

WHAT? Lazarus was only supposed to sleep. Wasn’t my pain supposed to be for the glory of God? I was doing my best to keep my faith through it all. I was doing my best to live a Godly and holy life. I was being an obedient servant of God. I was also still doing my best to hold on to Hebrews 11:1 as well. Yet, my prayers just seemed to be going nowhere.

Year two in, and ten years into our marriage, and I was becoming so discouraged. I knew that God had made me a promise, but why had I not seen it yet? The year before, I had turned thirty and was so depressed. I was depressed about leaving my twenties and depressed that I still had no children. Now here we were getting ready to celebrate our tenth anniversary, and we still had no children.

I was so frustrated.

My husband and I began talking about adoption. We felt that we could adopt and continue to wait for God to fulfill his promise. We started looking into the necessary steps to get things started. However, before moving forward financially, we decided to celebrate our anniversary in December. We needed to take some time away from things. The situation was placing a strain on our marriage.

Little did I know what God was about to do.

See, even in the story of Lazarus, God knew exactly what He was doing. Sure, his family suffered, and I’m sure their faith waivered; even Jesus wept over the death of Lazarus. However, He knew that He needed to do something that was way outside of their expectations for them to believe.

“...Said I not unto thee, that, if thou wouldest believe, thou shouldest see the glory of God?” John 11:40, KJV.

The following March, I felt differently. Something inside of me felt off. I was silently hoping that the medicine was working and that I was on my way to having a normal life. One day, I realized I hadn’t had a cycle. You have to understand that for me to go for two, three, or even six months with or without a cycle was normal life. This time, I felt strange. I decided to take a pregnancy test.

I was terrified.

What if I took it and it was negative? I truly didn’t think that I could handle another letdown at this point in my life. I bought the test and left it on the bathroom counter. I didn’t want to touch it. I didn’t want to take the test. One evening, I finally made up my mind to take the test the following morning. I prayed all evening. I told God that He knew there was no way I could handle a negative outcome.

The next morning, I took the test. It was the worst five minutes of my life. It was positive! I was in shock. It was the first positive test I had ever had. I wanted to scream for joy, but I decided to remain as calm as possible. I walked into the bedroom and woke my husband. I told him. His response was, “That’s great,” and he rolled over and went back to sleep. It wasn’t until I was half way to work that he called me and asked, “Did you say what I thought you said this morning? You’re pregnant?” It had finally hit him in his drowsy state. We still have a good laugh over that to this day.

The story isn’t over!

Fast forward to November 1st. I had a relatively good pregnancy, but suddenly my feet started swelling. I put on seven pounds in one week. The doctor said everything was looking good. Yet, one Sunday, I had such a bad headache. Later that evening, it turned into a migraine. I went to bed in hopes that it would pass. During the night, I woke with the pain so excruciating that I began throwing up. I found the only way I could get relief was to get a hot shower. That night, I took four showers in hopes that I could get some relief.

The next morning, I called my doctor, and they said they wanted to see me immediately. My symptoms were not normal. The baby wasn’t due for another month. Once I arrived at the office, the nurse took my blood pressure, and they immediately sent me to check into the hospital. My blood pressure was through the roof. The hope was that they could get it down and send me back home. Yet, that wasn’t what happened. On November 3rd, the doctor came in and informed us to call whomever we needed to call. I had preeclampsia, and both the baby and I were at risk. I was to have an emergency c-section that afternoon.

I would love to tell you that I remember every moment from those days, but my memory was affected by all of the stress on my body. I was unable to see her until the following day. My precious, tiny little red-headed girl was only 4 pounds and 9 ounces and had to be sent to the NICU. While there, they discovered that she was unable to eat on her own. They put in a feeding tube. Otherwise, she was very healthy.

Yet, the next three weeks would be another hard time for us to deal with. God wasn’t finished testing our faith in Him.

I was in the hospital for a week following the surgery; however, our baby girl had to remain in the NICU until she was able to eat on her own. They couldn’t tell me how long that would be. The only thing they could tell me was that after my week there, I would have to leave. I would be able to see her at certain times throughout the day. Do you know how hard it was to leave her there while I went to my home, 45 minutes away? Not only that, I was still recovering from my c-section. I didn’t care though. I was going to make sure I was there no matter what.

Thankfully, God worked it out that I was able to stay at a hotel nearby for one week, thanks to the Ronald McDonald Foundation. The next week, I traveled from home to the hospital every day just to be with her. I knew she would eventually come home, but the wait was still so hard. Yet, she was my promise!

I was holding a tangible miracle!

During the week of Thanksgiving, she made so much progress. They were running the final test to make sure she would be okay when they thought she might have sleep apnea. We prayed. We knew God had given us this miracle, and we knew that he could clear her to come home without a machine. The day of her release, they said she had slept through the night for the first time without any episodes. God had answered our prayers.

While at a conference after she was born, a minister friend of ours held her and said, “I’m holding a miracle.” Every time I look at her, hug her, or hold her (even though she is as big as me now), I remember the promise God gave us. I know that she is my tangible miracle.

I believe that our obedience to going where God called us played a huge part in getting our miracle. I won’t say that my faith never waivered. It did. More than once. I knew God had made me a promise, but doubt would do its best to creep in. However, now when God gives me a word, my faith is even stronger. In those dark times when I don’t know how I’m going to make it, leaving Him never crosses my mind. I just turn and look at my daughter, and I know that He is always faithful.

I have a tangible miracle!

Happy birthday, baby girl!

Remember the minister who prophesied to us and never sees those he gives the word to until after the child is born? We never saw him again until after she was born. Plus, he plays a huge part in another story that will be coming soon. A Tangible Miracle 2