I will never forget September 11th. However, that date now has new meaning for my family. On that date in 2009, our whole lives changed. I dropped my sons off at school like everyday, then came home with their two sisters, who were 2 years old and almost 6 months old. I remember watching footage of the attacks on our country via television that day, it was a remembrance special. That afternoon, I went to the school and picked them up. My oldest son got in the car and started telling me, "the weirdest thing happened to me today". As he described this "episode", (I am a Registered Nurse), my mind immediately screamed "he has had a seizure...or a stroke!". Seeing as how he had no residual damage, I assumed the former and told him so. I then called his doctor. They were booked, but one of the other doctors could see him that day. We dropped the other kids off with their Granny and headed straight in. We were only in the exam room a short while when he screamed "Ow, my head!" and went into a large seizure, causing him to loose consciousness and begin to turn blue around his mouth. I hollered for help, and they arrived. The ambulance rushed him next door to our local hospital and into the CT scanner. (This is the same hospital I was employed at). That night, my precious, intelligent, handsome, strong 11 year old son lay in the bed zonked on medication. This kid has such a big heart. His dad worked nights then and he always tried to "fill the role" of 'man of the house'. Helping me put little ones to bed, helping with meals, and constantly peeking into my bedroom saying "Are you ok mom? Do you need anything?". For a long time, he and his brother slept on the floor of our bedroom to 'help if needed'.
I got down on my knees that night in the bathroom of his hospital room, crying my eyes out to God. Begging Him to heal him. Begging Him to take the seizures away. We had only recently returned to church and I had rededicated my life back to Jesus, a few months prior, and had been through many battles before this one. I developed multiple post-partum issues, not to mention a very traumatic birth experience with my then almost 6 month old, and she had developed a large hemangioma on her hand and major bowel impaction.
I even 'wrote' the Lord a letter of sorts, pouring my heart out to Him. Begging for answers. Seeking His healing hand. And, yes, asking why? I couldn't understand it. I wrote out Psalm 91 for my son and during the next few months (I will describe later), he carried it with him every time we were in a hospital. He would soon spend A LOT of time in children's hospitals. My mom and I could barely sleep, we just watched him and cried, so afraid we were going to loose him. So afraid that this was a "life sentence" for him. Not knowing where to turn next. I was just hopeful God would intervene somehow. Little did I know then, how much He would intervene, but not how I thought He 'should'.
Isaiah 5:8-9~ For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways, says the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and My thoughts than your thoughts. (NKJV).
I would learn very much, how this verse would apply in my own life..........
