The delivery room was silent. No protesting cries after the birth. I could hear the murmuring of the medical staff. Finally the nurse came to my side and said, “We got her to breathe.” That was five minutes after her birth.

Big brother holding his baby sister

My adrenalin was high, yet I was calm. My daughter’s fate was in God’s hands. We waited almost six years before we had our second child. We had a boy, now we wanted a girl. And we got one. But would she survive?

God got my attention that early morning. Oh yes, I was a Christian. I went to church every Sunday. We prayed before every meal. But that was my communication with God. Not enough. Not during this emergency. I realized I needed God more than ever.

While they tended her needs, I tended my relationship with God that had gotten as weak as a tiny babe. It was that incident where God got my attention.

We waited for twenty-four hours before they figured out what was wrong with our baby. During that time, we asked people to pray. And they did. They prayed and we prayed. And waited.

During the waiting time, I was reminded that The LORD is my strength and my song. My power is made made perfect in weakness. And one I’ve leaned on during high times of fear: their strength is to sit still. 

There wasn’t anything I could do. I had to give my daughter to God. Would she survive? If she survived, would she be alright?

That baby girl did survive her traumatic birth. She was a miracle. She grew. She was so easy to raise. We were companions as she grew up. We even taught in the same school together. I was allowed to be present when she had her own babies. I’ll say it again. It was a miracle she survived.

There was another miracle that day, though. The miracle of my coming back “home.” Home to my Father in Heaven who wanted to be close to me. Wanted a relationship with me. I had believed and he was in my life. Just not at the front of it. Up to that time, I’d lived my life the way I wanted to. But after that fearsome twenty-four hours of waiting, I returned home. Home to my relationship with God. And I’ve not turned back since that day so long ago now. He’s been there with me in all circumstances.

What has happened in your life that caused you to turn your attention to the Maker of everything, including you? Was it a trauma, like my experience? Or perhaps a miracle of the birth of a child? Did you respond to him?

The miracle of having a relationship with God is so simple. We just need to go to him and ask him for forgiveness of our ignoring him and being our own god. It is recognizing he is God and died for you and me. And then we allow him to work and be in our lives.

What about that baby who didn’t breathe for five minutes after birth? At first, the doctors didn’t know the consequences of no oxygen to the brain for that long. They said we’d need to wait and see. She thrived. Not without her own difficulties. That’s probably why her name is Erika, which means “strong one.”

Thanks for walking down the memory road with me this June 27. Below is a song about a hiding place. It’s where I go when I am afraid. Am grieving. When I feel far from God. Maybe you need to go there, too. Enjoy the words and the simple song.

Happy birthday, Erika Ann!

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