A Quiet Place

Wings outstretched...I noted...he didn't jump off...he didn't flap his wings. He just stood there motionless, as if he were waiting. And then...it happened. I felt a wind., coming out of nowhere. It seemed to come from behind...or maybe...underneath. Suddenly...this huge bird...was lifted. He was lifted effortlessly. Soaring outward and upward, not moving his wings. He just held them there. The wind came along and carried him. Around and around he soared, allowing only the wind to propel his flight. It was a sight...an experience...I will never forget at the top. At the top I was able to see across to other pinnacles.

From up there the valley didn't seem quite as long. In the long walk of the valley, prayer took place. Prayer that happened , at a quiet in Illinois.

"Mommy...you know what?"

"What?"

Her reply, "There are three ways God answers prayers. Yes, no or wait."

Out of the mouth of a child comes a profound statement.

He weighed less than 16 lbs. His mother hung desperately to my arm as I approached the critical care unit. I could hear the sobbing of his father outside the room. They were heart wrenching sobs, that moved my heart...so to speak...beyond words.

There was nothing you could say, nothing you could do. Except, remain calm. Inside, I cried for this little one. Tears held back in an effort to soothe his mother.

This little one had sustained an emergency helicopter lift from a small hospital up north. His life hung in the balance. At midnight, I picked up the phone to hear the doctor say, "We have a lot of work to do." I had just finished an 18 hour shift. I was exhausted, and itching to go home.

In a cradle, the baby, this little one...laid limp. The medication and equipment was staggering to see. A team of physicians and nurses did everything they could to keep him alive...until...the procedure was ready.

The treatment made ready for the baby...came natural to me...as if I had done it before. I knew that Jesus was there...the miracle of hope.

He hadn't cried in a long time. His eyes were closed. His body wasting away from the virus. Blond hair found in his cradle falling out.

I remember how intense the air felt as I entered his room. His mother cried down the hallway, "Save my baby...save my baby." I heard. I prayed...Lord don't leave us...we need you.

Minutes in that room...twenty five minutes...that's all it took from start to finish. It was complete. We had done our part.

I stood at his bedside. My eyes intently watching. I was looking for signs, signs of new movement. I could see his eyelashes. His eyes were shut. The room was silent except for the sounds of the machines. It was as if everyone in the room were holding their breath. Everyone watched as this little one laid in the cradle. Suddenly, like pools of blue water...his eyes...looked straight at mine. He cried! Yes he cried.!

I'll never forget that night. Yes, I believe prayer changes things. Jesus gave this little one...the miracle...of life.