Miracles. It’s one of those things I see frequently happen to others, but never to me. I think a part of me had given up on the prospect, because maybe God requires me to live more by faith than by sight. I’m not sure this is logical. And while I know I’ve likely seen many miracles happen in my life, none have affected me quite as much as this one.
My daughter, Adie, took a really bad fall in mid-January. As a nurse, I could tell nothing was broken. From the outside, all appeared fine. A day or so later, Adie began to complain of a really painful, uncomfortable spot on her inner thigh. Me being the amazing (mom of the year), nurturing mom that I am, blew it off and thought she was just being dramatic. Kids are like that, you know. A week goes by, then two, but the pain and discomfort have lingered. I check her leg to find that she has developed a really bad hematoma. What!?! How did this happen? How had I not taken the time to notice?
I immediately got a sharpie and marked the borders. That’s what nurses do. Worry began to creep in. As a nurse, I know far too much but still too little at times. Three weeks eventually pass, and while the hematoma isn’t growing, but it’s not going down either. Bad sign.
I get her to the doctor. He is immediately concerned. He gives us three scenarios, two of which require some type of invasive intervention. I can’t believe this is happening to my sweet 8 year old. We are immediately scheduled for an ultrasound. The results come back. We need an MRI. I watched as my baby remained completely still for over 30 minutes with an IV in her arm as this machine barked away. Mommy was more afraid than my brave little one.
The results come back. She is referred to a pediatric surgeon to fix the problem. This is where the story gets crazy, weird, awesome, and amazing. Two days after her MRI, I noticed that her hematoma had gone down by at least 75%. No intervention other than the gloriously divine. Another two days — there’s no hematoma at all! She is healed! I’m not kidding you! About four weeks of pain and discomfort and a hematoma the size of a racket ball…GONE!
I’d asked close friends from all over the U.S. to pray. They were faithful and prayed. My baby is healed. And Jesus is and will forever be the God of Miracles.