Sometimes Miles amazes me. I often think that he doesn't remember his time in the hospital. He was young, and he rarely references it. But sometimes, out of nowhere, he'll say something about it that strikes me to the core, and lets me know that it has scarred him.
Lately when Jamie or I put him to bed, his prayer, if he prays at all, consists of saying a version of "Grace." ("Dear God, thank you for the food. Amen.") Tonight when I was putting him to bed, he told me he didn't want to say a prayer. And then he said this:
"Sometimes, when I'm not feeling good, I ask God to come down out of heaven to help the doctors to help me feel better, and He does, and then He goes back into heaven and then I feel better."
I held it together, agreeing that God is very good at helping him feel better, then left the room before breaking down while relating it to Jamie. I hope we never have to relive that time, but Lord, what healing power You displayed to us, and how we learned to trust You then! And what a trust in God Miles already shows!
|From the PICU, February 2013|