He was three years old and on his way for major surgery for a genetic defect. He looked up at the nurse as she carried him and sang “Jesus Loves Me, This I know”.
Tears falling from her face, she put him on the bed in the Operating Room, and gave charge to the anesthesiologist. As he went to sleep he recited his bedtime prayer, “Now I lay me down to sleep…………”
One year later: In the pediatric bed he looked so small―tubes and wires all over him. This was one of the many times he had been back to the hospital for complications from his surgery. This time, it was a fever that would not go away. Everything checked out but something wasn’t right and the fever just kept climbing. It was evening and the doctors and nurses had struggled to start intravenous fluids to hydrate him. His veins just would not allow life-giving fluid to pass. The doctor came to the parents with as much compassion as he could muster. He told the parents there was nothing more they could do, that their little boy would either make it through the night or he wouldn’t. The parents went home and prayed on their knees that God would deliver their little boy from this, and if it was His will to take him home; it would be ok, so long as he did not suffer.
The mother went back to the hospital. A minister they knew came to the room and prayed with mother and little son. The mother tucked in her little son and prayed with him again and sang the little Sunday school songs he remembered.
It was shortly past midnight when the little boy woke and spoke to his mother. “Mommy, could you turn out the bright light over me, I can’t sleep.” With great tears in that dark, dark room, the mother spoke to her little son. “Sleep my dearest son; it is Jesus who came to comfort you. He is covering you with His light to comfort you and help you to sleep.”
Through the night the mother stood over her dear little son as he began to rest and be comforted from the fitful, restlessness that had plagued him.
In the morning with the sun starting to shine and the nurses making their rounds, the lab came to get some blood. It was difficult, but they had sent their best technician. Some time later the doctor and nurses came in to hover over the little boy. He was awake and talking to them. The doctor turned to the mother, “I don’t believe this, but his labs have all come back normal and his fever is gone.” “We are going to get fluids into him, and if he does well he can go home”.
God had delivered that little boy. He had been healed and is known to this day as the miracle boy in Pediatrics.
That little boy is our son, Eric. He celebrated his 38th birthday this week. He still has issues that come up from time to time from his surgery, but we know that through the years he has experienced three healings. He is a good man, and his father and I continue to pray that God will do a good work in and through him.
Joy is a retired nurse and mother of two grown sons. She resides at the foot of the beautiful Rocky Mountains near Denver, Colorado.