page 4 of Jeremiah.....
For five sleepless nights, from Jem's 4th floor bedroom, I had memorized Cubao's skyline, the neon
signs were an alternative to Jem's face and kept me from dozing off.. On that fifth night I noted we were buying the meds by the dose, praising God for coming thru with the provision at the right time it was due.
We had waged good warfare and this was getting exciting. By midnight Jem asked me to take him to the bathroom. It was then while holding up Jem's IV bottle that I heard: Did you know that all these contraptions
were just for you? I countered , You mean you allowed all these for my sake only? Then in a flash I was reminded of how Jem at 7 months had moved to a transverse lie in my womb. My obstetrician had warned me to
slow down and pray that he will move to cephalic or head presentation so I won't have a cs on my 3rd baby. Of course not.
Then one week from EDC while away on a trip, I had to be taken to a provincial hospital because of intense labor pains. They
turned out to be false and I asked to be discharged to be able to deliver back home in the city as planned. Happily I was spared the knife when he came out 10 days later by normal spontaneous delivery in a
friend's clinic in another province in Bulacan. The miracle of God's hand putting him right in position, as well as provision, for the delivery was simply amusing. I was thinking of this after hearing that inner
Was God leading me on to trust him for healing , this time even
without the medicines I had been giving Jem intravenously? To the fullest limit of conservative treatment, I had aggressively pursued every detail with that no-matter-what-it-cost attitude. By this time, we
had begun purchasing by the dose, indicating to my financially unworried mind it was costing a lot already. It is time to turn to the source of all this good. The hand that held the goods is now without goods and
is now waiting for me to hold. And this hand that healed, it is a good hand to hold. The healing by those goods it earlier held were imparted by this hand. It was then that I realized I wanted his healing
more than anything, not by any means anymore, but by His Hand.
Faith exercise, mental exercise, thanks anytime. But this time, actual healing for my son.
In the few minutes that Jem was in the john, and I was holding up his bottle by my right
hand, God flashed all these in my mind. By the time we were back to his bed, we noticed the needle was out of vein and swelling had begun. I had to take it out to reinsert in another place. Jem begged to be let
free of his iv for a time to rest his hand. It was a good idea and I agreed, then listened for his abdomen. Precious and few, but there were more tinkles per minute this time than last. I can afford to wait for
the next dose to reinsert the iv. After 4 hours he asked reinsertion to be postponed further. Freedom extended, he agreed that I give the dose intramuscularly. That gave him another 4-6 hrs. iv-free. He
suggested to eat and drink his fluid replacement. Declaring a continuous improvement of bowel sounds and potency of the intestinal tract, I conceded.
When God leads you to a new level of trusting him, he is gracious to encourage. I remember, during those most toxic moments
when it felt I had to hang on to raw faith alone, and I asked God to encourage me, he would. When any of the children develop fever to a high enough point to make anyone panic, my patient would engage me in small
talk that encourage. In Jem's most toxic moments, I see it a precious move of God to enable him to smile with those parched lips and enable me to see that gaunt face light up. When after 5 sleepless nights I am
about ready to drop, he opens his eyes and say, Mommy, when I close my eyes, you are there. When I open you are still awake. Don't you ever sleep? Honest questions, but they give you strength to go on, more than
what 5 cups of coffee would do to perk you up. Then the guilt of missing a wink goes away.
years to come, I am to remember these moments as God's faithfulness to answer little prayers we make even half wondering if it was too trivial to be answered. When we mindtalk, addressing God, it is amazing how he
answers so self effacingly. You may not know it was him, you may think it was your own thought. If it seems a brilliant thought, you may take the credit for it. If foolish, you may not take responsibility for it.
Either way your response can be inaccurate. But if you have addressed it to God , you can always go back to him for clarification if anything sounded too absurd to come from you. If it becomes a habit, you will
notice that even as you hurry to look for that missing sock, that missing shoe, or tie or ribbon, those little things that conveniently get lost early in the morning rush, even as you mutter under your
breath Where did it go, Lord? the lost one has a way of showing up. Somehow that makes you thank God.
All religions talk to their gods, but our God talks to us. Not just of big things, but of little things as well, because he wants to be intimate, concerned as he is with the affairs of man.
The world needs to be impressed with the big drama of spectacular events. But with one that is intimate in his relationship, little things mean a lot. Thru the eyes of a loving God, there is drama in the smile of
a loved one, that tender look from across the room singling you out of the crowd, in the touch of that little child's hand, and the many nuances of loving and being loved.
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