HIS HEALING HAND TOUCHES THOSE TODAY

The Healing Hand
"Unto you that fear
my name, shall the
Son of righteousness
arise with healing
in his wings."
Malachi 4:2
The pain that wracked my sides and lower abdomen was so severe; I doubled over and cried out to my husband Charles. Charles and our two young sons ages 7 and 4 helped me into the car. As we sped through the darkness to the hospital, our sons prayed for Mommie. As I was wheeled into the emergency room, I assured both boys "Mommie will be fine'.
After an extensive examination-x-rays, blood tests and other tests, the doctor was sure I had an over active gallbladder. I was admitted for tests and possible surgery. After a two-day stay, much prayer and more testing, the doctor ordered the last set of x-rays. The diagnosis upon discharge was pain of unknown origin.
On a follow-up visit I was given unexpected, shocking news. Gallbladder? No! In fact I was three months pregnant. The doctor advised me to 'abort the fetus'. The 'fetus' as they so crudely termed it was in all probability severely damaged by the many x-rays and exposure to radiation. This was never at any point an option---I immediately decided against murder! The 'fetus' was my child--not some mass of tissue.
As my unborn child grew and movement got stronger each passing day, I was tormented at times that this precious child within me might not survive.
The Holy Spirit assured me that Charles and I had made the right and only decision. Waiting on the Lord took on a totally new concept, I trusted Him completely, no reservations.
January 2, 1981 dawned crystal clear. As Charleswesley and Jacie played on the floor with their toys, I slowly made my way into the kitchen. Labor, hard, strong pains wracked my body. Quickly the four of us rushed to the hospital. I delivered our third son 9 1/2 hours later 8 lbs.5ozs.23 in. long. Jonathandavid Daniel. Our STRONG fine son, perfect in every way.
At 4 months of age, John-John was a very colicky baby. Although the pediatrician had assured us our baby was 'coming right along'. Charles and I shared the same concern; Jonathandavid still had the colic. Sleeping as little as 2 hours a night, eating constantly, and vomiting immediately, he seemed to be losing weight.
As a treat for Mom, Charles took the two oldest boys to a church retreat for the weekend. John-John and I were alone for two glorious days. I choose this prime time to pray and seek the Lord.
After a light supper, it was mealtime for John-John. He had cried constantly during the day.
The only comfort he seemed to get was when I cradled him in my arms. His cries subsided to a weak whimper. After I tried to feed him sugar water, he vomited all 4 oz. I instinctively knew something was dreadfully wrong. I called the pastor for prayer and the intercession began. We soon found we were to be tested severely, and an unseen strength from God was soon to be displayed.
John-John exhausted from crying and lack of sleep, moved about weakly on the way to the emergency room. My mind was a blur on that spring evening. The lights of the hospital appeared in the distance.
'What's wrong?"I called out to my merciful Father.
The antiseptic odor of the emergency room greeted us as we entered. John-John's breathing was shallow, and he offered no resistance as the nurse took him from me. Never leaving his side, I silently prayed as I watched the medical staff probe and examine my son. It was a matter of hours and more probing before John-John was admitted. Charles had been called and was on the way.
As I stood alone in the empty waiting room, the hours drug on endlessly and the nagging question prevailed. How can good come from a suffering child?
I reflected on the earlier months, before John-John's birth, when the devil had tried to steal our son's life. God was victorious then. "Father, you who sustained, guided and carried me then--I ask in Your Son's name, grant me the grace and strength I need for this" I prayed silently. As I saw Charles approaching, I sighed with relief. We clung together wordlessly, each in our own pain.
John-John was assigned a room and further testing was ordered. The hospital lifestyle settled in. The hours meshed into days with no affirmative answers. We were no closer to the cause of John-John's ever weakening condition.
The stress of such uncertainty began to take its ugly toll. Charles and I took turns being at the hospital. No one offered nor gave childcare for my two other sons, and without funds for a sitter, the care of our boys weighed heavily upon us. Exhaustion seemed to pour from every fiber of my body. I reluctantly left John-John for some time with our other sons.
Upon my arrival at home, I was greeted with squeals of delight from Charleswesley and Jacie. Had it been so long ago that laughter rang within these walls?

We hugged, kissed and hugged some more before busily tackling the kitchen chores. What a comfort and sense of security those small tasks can bring. We called John-John's room and after both boys chatted with their Dad it was time for baths, devotions prayers and bed. Oh the wisdom a young one has. At 7 years old Charleswesley, being the 'man of the house', gave these comforting words.
"You know Mommie, God knows we love our John-John, and need him to love and take care of. Well Mommie, I've been talking to God all day today. John-John's going to be fine" with a smile and assurance in his voice, he trotted off to bed.
Day 10,testing results still negative. Seemingly no progress. Although on I.V. drip, glucose and moderate feedings, he continued to lose ground. His weight dropped from 18 lbs. to 11 lbs.3 oz.
Day 11,the neurologist informed us our son might have brain damage, hearing loss, and blindness. On and on he droned about negative findings.
'Unto you that fear my name shall the Son of righteousness arise with healing in his wings' Malachi 4:2 I clung to that verse as our promise. I felt a peace and assurance that John-John indeed would be fine, in God's time.
Day 14 tests completed--no known cure, no diagnosis nor prognosis. Take him home. Return for follow-up treatment, handle with extreme caution. Call if anything new develops. With heavy hearts we began to pack the diaper bag. I took John-John in my arms, as tears welled up in my eyes, and began to feed him before we left the room. The nurse was giving Charles and I final instructions on special care. An internal medicine specialist came in to see if there was anything he could do. At that exact moment John-John vomited violently. "Oh" the specialist said casually, "failure to thrive". He began a regime of questions and orders to the startled nurse. Jonathandavid was to stay three more days. We hoped the new medication, formula and elevated bed would produce a weight gain and show sigifinat progress.
After 17 days of treatment there was indeed progress .A weight gain of almost 1 lb in three days. To the delight of the nurses and doctors on the day of homecoming Jonathandavid weighed 15 lbs!!
As our precious Jonathan approached his 20th birthday I am thankful for his life and the joy he brings to his family. And for our Father's mercy. He has no trace of any medical problems nor do we expect any!