December 18. On Day 5 of this Advent Journal, I wrote about a mother whose baby girl was fighting for her life. I have never met this mom but have been following the story through her blog (http://journeyofsarah.com/). When I wrote the entry on Day 5, my heart was broken for this mother. She lost her husband to cancer a year ago, and it looked like she was about to lose her infant daughter. Earlier this week, this mother took her baby home. The story is incredible and inspiring and worth taking the time to read it its entirety. It has become a part of my Advent journey, watching this miracle unfold. I have gone from gasping in disbelief that God would allow such a tragedy to occur in this situation to gasping with disbelief that He would heal her in such a miraculous way.

I think it has been especially meaningful to me because the situation was so familiar in many ways, so I could understand medically how truly miraculous it was. A quick summary: Baby Ellis had been on a ventilator due to bacterial meningitis. Her brain had swollen terribly, and scans indicated that it had suffered too much damage for her to breathe independently, much less eat or develop normally. When Ellis’s mom posted a beautiful picture of her baby’s footprints and handprints, I had that sinking feeling that anyone whose hospitalized baby has been gravely ill would understand—the “they don’t think my child is going to make it” feeling.

Ellis was taking no independent breaths. Anyone who has had a child weaned off a vent knows what that means. Removing a vent from a child who is taking no independent breaths is not weaning—it is removal of life support. Ellis’s mother Sarah bravely allowed her daughter to be removed from the ventilator, supposedly to die in her arms. But Ellis didn’t die. She lived. And she breathed. And she kept breathing. And then she took bottles. And now she is home. Miracle. No other word for it. It was exhilarating to read about. And yesterday, her mom wrote a very real, very thought-provoking post about how it felt to receive that miracle.

Here is an excerpt:

“The day we removed Ellis from the vent and right before they put her on my chest, I ducked in the bathroom for a quick moment. It was there I cried out one last time to God. I’d been crying out to Him for weeks and it seemed as if my prayers were going nowhere. Each time I would pray it seemed like things only got worse. I was prepared that day to tell her goodbye. My heart was crushed and I felt like I had nothing left within me. Yet, there in that little hospital bathroom a plea rose up from my heart.

‘Lord, I will let her go. But if there’s any way, any way at all, please let her live.’

As I said the prayer I don’t even think I believed it could be true.

But true it was.

They removed Ellis from the vent and against all odds, she lived.

Miracle of miracles.

No explanation for it other than that.

I believed mightily for a miracle once and it didn’t happen.

I believed weakly for a miracle once and it did.

This leaves me at a crossroads.

I believe it’s always Gods will to heal. Always. Do I understand any better why it happens in one instance and not in the other? Not in the least.

I don’t believe God causes tragic circumstances for His glory. But I believe He will use them for His glory.”

(from “Miracles,” published on December 17, 2014 at http://journeyofsarah.com/)

Since Timothy died a year and a half ago, I have had people talk to me about this very thing. Why did God heal Timothy of so many things only to allow a rogue infection to take his life? Why after he went through so much, did God not bring him through that? Why did we not get “our miracle” when others around us did? And we asked the same question of ourselves in the months before his death as we watched some of our new hospital friends lose their children while our son survived. When you are in the world of long-term illness and special needs, these are question you constantly face.  I have always had peace about the way our story unfolded, but the reason was something I struggled to articulate.

Today, though, as I read the blog of this young mom, I felt I finally understood the source of my peace. The truth God revealed to me is that He answers all of the miracle-seeking prayers. Because the miracle is not the physical healing; it is the presence of the Healer. My son fought battle after battle for his health. He went not one single day of his life without being stuck, poked, prodded, or hooked up to something. He struggled. And he struggled. And he struggled. And then he almost made it home. And then he went Home.

But I still experienced a miracle. In pleading for his health and eventually for his life, I encountered God in a way I never had before. And in the minutes directly preceding his death, I experienced the healing presence of Christ himself. I will never forget it, and I know and love God so much more because of it. And this is true because of the Christmas miracle. When the Holy Spirit came upon Mary, the door to heaven creaked open a hair. And with each step of Jesus’s life, it opened further and further until the veil tore on Good Friday and blew the door right off the hinges. That perfect life that led to that perfect sacrifice made the answer to every prayer for a miracle, “YES!” The miracle is that we who are fallen and imperfect and unholy can now experience the presence of the Living God, who is perfect and holy.

And because of this, I can wholeheartedly rejoice with this mother whose daughter has been miraculously healed. And with my hospital friends who did get to take their children home. Because my son was healed too. In heaven. Where he dwells in a place without pain or tears. WITH JESUS HIMSELF. And even though I miss him every single day, I got my miracle. Because I, too, dwell with Jesus himself. I just have to wade through the noise and distraction of this world and seek Him.

Lord, I stand in awe of what You did in baby Ellis’s life. I know You are going to use her mom’s testimony, and one day hers, for Your glory. I also know You have used Timothy’s life and death for Your glory. Both are miracles. Because the miracle is that we have the gift of Your Presence. It is our Christmas miracle and our everyday miracle. Help me to tune out the chaos around me and seek You every day, just as I did when I was pleading for and experiencing my own miraculous healing. In Your Son’s precious name, I pray. Amen.

“Come, let us return to the Lord. He has torn us to pieces but he will heal us; he has injured us but he will bind up our wounds. After two days he will revive us; on the third day he will restore us, that we may live in his presence. Let us acknowledge the Lord; let us press on to acknowledge him. As surely as the sun rises, he will appear; he will come to us like the winter rains, like the spring rains that water the earth.” (Hosea 6:1-3, NIV)