Tuesday, September 22, 2015

When the crib is empty... Again

The story has become so familiar.

Another sick little one in respiratory distress.

He had been sick for months, in and out of hospitals. Unfortunately, this system is not kind to the poor, and they had spent and sold everything they could to save his life.

In desperation, they brought him to us.

I have seen it so many times before. And this little one was so very sick. He wheezed and coughed, trying to get whatever was in his lungs out. The first few days were spent trying to help him breathe.

Medicine. Nebulizing every two hours. Holding him more frequently than not so he didn't send himself back into respiratory distress.

Many long nights where, honestly, we just didn't know if he would make it.

And I kept thinking of his mother. We see so many little ones with parents who didn't care, parents who waited too late. Not them... they genuinely love this little guy and want him to be well.

So we kept fighting and praying over him.

"Listen," I would say to him, "You have to make it. In Jesus's name, you're going to be ok."

And he would look at me with his dark, round eyes, almost as if he understood.

Finally, he turned a corner. We could space the time out longer between nebulization. He finished his medicine and didn't need more. He was sleeping peacefully for hours at a time. He was gaining weight and growing hair.

And faithfully, every visitation day, they were waiting outside to hold him. They didn't care what medicine or how long he had to stay, they told us. They just wanted him well.

Finally, last Thursday, our precious little guy went home... lungs clear, tummy full, and a few more rolls on his chubby legs.

God is so gracious.

And today, we celebrate an empty crib, ready to be filled by another little one. And we pray for more miracles, rejoicing in a story of hope and healing.

You are so loved little boy, and we are eternally grateful to be a part of your story.

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