My grandson, Christian, just celebrated his 9th birthday and I found myself reflecting, watching videos and looking at old pictures. Anybody that knows me, even for a little while, knows that I like to take pictures... don't care much about being in them, but I will take them if you let me. So from the time Christian was born I had an, albeit not voluntarily, model. But nonetheless I had one. So I was looking at old pics of him when he was baby and watching the many videos I shot of him throughout his years which brought me to today. (That’s just a side note).
Anyway as I was reflecting on him, God brought something to my remembrance which I posted about today but here is the story behind the post as I journaled it on October 6th, 2011.
I found myself in a hospital emergency room with my grandson, Christian, who was 7 at the time, whom I had picked up from school because he had complained about stomach pains and my daughter, Brandi (his mom) was at work. I brought him to my house but after a couple of hours he was still complaining and judging from the look in his eyes, I thought it was time to take him to the hospital.
After being there for several hours, from about 2:00pm, it was about 9 now and after numerous tests, the doctors came up with an inconclusive report. They thought it might have been his appendix, but was not certain. The doctor spoke with us, me and my daughter and was telling us of the options for Christian. That Christian could go home and Brandi would have to watch him and bring him back immediately if the pain started up again, or that Christian could remain in the hospital and allow them to watch him. Or he could be transferred at that moment to another hospital, which could run further tests as they were in a position to do so, since they had a pediatric unit. Christian heard these choices and cried out, "I don't want to stay in the hospital. I want to go home!" And went on to say how he wasn't in anymore pain. Then the doctor left us to make our decision.
Brandi looked at me for an answer and I told her she had to make the decision, as it was hers to make, "but follow your heart." She then told the doctor she wanted Christian to be transferred. And Christian broke out in more tears, crying louder than before, causing his mom to cry and to doubt what she decided. She looked at me again, in confusion and fear, and as I started to speak in that instance, Christian blurted out, "Did anybody ask God? Did you Mom?" And then declared that he would do so and proceeded to close his eyes and pray. He opened his eyes and said that God said that I'm going to be alright. And then he went back to "I want to go home." Brandi continued to comfort him and I left the room and called my husband to tell him of the circumstances. He said we had to do what was best for Christian. And as I walked back to the room where they were, I had strength to help her to make that decision and to stick to it, and as much as he cried after that, Brandi stayed with her decision to have him transferred.
Christian was transferred, was in the hospital overnight and after no more pain, he was discharged early that evening. Doctors never determined the cause. Bless God!
And over the next couple of days following the incident, I had been thinking about Christian and how brave he was. But what really stood out the most, was just how much he expressed his faith. When this had first happened to him, I had prayed for him and when the pain wouldn't go away, he wondered, "Why isn't it gone, Grandma? We prayed. Why didn't God take it away?" He still knew and had expectations, which is hope, faith, that since he prayed that God would answer. And we should always have that expectation as well. We may not know when God will move, we don't know His timing, but we have to know that He will.
And then later on when a decision was placed before us, Christian had enough wherewithal to say, "Did anyone ask God?" He knew that God had the answer and though he prayed, he said God told him he would be alright, but he never said God told him, when, or he could go home. But he knew still that he would be alright, enough to want to go home.
Christian's faith taught me something. And I am grateful that God allowed me to see it. Faith is about seeking the Lord for direction, for healing, for whatever it is we need, and having the expectation that He will answer. Expectation is hope. Hope maketh not ashamed. God will answer. We just have to believe that and know that with the faith of a little child.
Thank You Jesus!
God is real. And He answers prayer.
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