Twice in the past six months we’ve heard a doctor say, “We’ll have the test results tomorrow,” and known that those results could potentially change our lives. Forever.
First was last fall, when Mr. Right had an MRI to rule out cancer and M.S. as the cause of his facial pain and swelling, which was mimicking shingles but turned out not to be shingles. We spent a long night looking at each other nervously, wondering if the next day we would hear the dreaded words, “cancer.” Or, “M.S.”
I’d like to say that I was calm and quoted scripture and had total faith that God was in control. But I’d be lying. Instead, I did a lot of crying and fretting and begging God to not let it be either of those horrible things. To let my husband be okay. I knew in my gut that I trusted God, that he was a good God and that he was in control, but I wish that that truth had translated into calmness on the outside.
It didn’t. And I stayed up all night worrying.
The next day we got the results… all clear. Some of the most beautiful words we’ve ever heard.
And then we heard those words again last week. “We’ll have the test results first thing in the morning.” This time those words were for my daughter, who was on week three of a mysterious fever that just wouldn’t go away. The doctor was concerned she might have Kawasaki Disease, something that can cause major heart damage in young children. The doctor was so concerned that he ran a STAT (rushed) blood test and told us if the results came back positive the following morning, our baby girl would be immediately admitted to the hospital for treatment. He used words like “heart cath” and “serious.”
As a mama, well, my heart stopped. While we were in the waiting room, waiting to get little Wrenn’s blood drawn, Mr. Right told me we’d be okay, that he was confident that the results would be fine. Our baby girl looked healthy. And I had to tell him that I couldn’t speak, because I might break down in tears right there in the waiting room.
And then I went home and cried and held my precious child and prayed over her. I knew our Sunday School class and family were praying for us, specifically that we would be calm and get some sleep, and we actually did. All three of us had an amazing night of sleep, which was a miracle. And the next morning God woke me up early and he and I spent some great time together, me handing my child over to him in my prayers, telling God that I knew he could sustain us through anything, even a hospital stay. That I knew that God loved my child even more than I did.
It wasn’t pretty. There were tears, but there was me clinging to God’s promise that he wouldn’t leave or forsake me. That his peace would be with me.
And about 9:30 that morning, we got the news that the tests came back clear. It wasn’t Kawasaki Disease. And we celebrated.
We finally found out today that it was simply a UTI. That, along with a long bout of croup at the beginning, and what I think may have been teething, and possibly a bout of Hand Foot Mouth has caused little Wrenn’s body to have a fever for 22 days in a row. But through it all, he has protected my little girl, from asthma complications, from Kawasaki Disease, from many other things I don’t even know about. He has been good to us. And we are thankful.
I hope we never have to hear the words, “We’ll have the test results in the morning” again, but if I do, I hope that each time, I will be a little stronger as I cling to God’s promises of comfort and peace and strength.
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