As Long As There Is Breath

As Long As There Is Breath, There Is Hope

A mom came to me, recently, exhausted emotionally, physically, and spiritually.  Her son was rebelling in nearly every way possible, and she felt certain that she was a failure beyond all hope.  I prayed with her and shared God’s faithfulness against all odds.

Christmas, 2007, was a time of prayer in holy desperation.  Our older son and his family were to meet us at our younger son’s home in Laurel, MS, for Thanksgiving.  The night before, Scott called to say they couldn’t come because our oldest granddaughter, Taylor, twelve years old at the time, was sick with what they thought might be a contagious virus. 

After a couple of days, Taylor seemed a little better, only to be violently ill the next day.  Scott took Taylor to her pediatrician, who immediately sent them on to Egleston Children’s Hospital in Atlanta, Georgia.  Within twenty-four hours, our precious Taylor was in intensive care with teams of doctors arriving at the conclusion that she had an acute, allergic reaction to an antibiotic she had been given for an infection and that she was suffering from liver failure.  As her liver numbers went down, the toxins in her body went up, and she became delirious.  There was very little anyone could do for her as we awaited a liver transplant which seemed to be her only hope.  We were assured that livers became available often and that our wait would be only hours. 

Instead, we waited for more than 36 hours, with no liver coming available.  Taylor was on the top of the transplant list in Georgia; yet, there was nothing.  For me, it was a time of continual prayer.  As serious as Taylor’s condition was, though, I could not bring myself to pray for another liver, nothing that meant someone else would have to die in order for her to live.  My precious brother and sister came from Texas, praying for a miraculous healing.

Our younger son closed his medical practice down in Mississippi and brought his whole family, fearing it was for a funeral as Taylor’s condition worsened.  The following night, Jamie encouraged Scott and Melissa to get a good night’s rest at a hotel down the street.  They had not left Taylor’s side since she had been admitted.  Jamie promised to sit by her bedside throughout the night and to call them if a liver came in or her condition worsened. 

Around midnight, technicians came in to draw more blood.  When our son checked the stats, they were slightly improved.  Two hours later, they checked, again; still better.  Every two hours they were checked until 8:00 A.M. when the physician in charge of liver transplants came into the room, shaking his head in seeming bewilderment.  As he discussed Taylor’s case with our younger son, a physician as well, he simply said, “We cannot explain it.  All we can say is that her liver was dead.  Now, it is alive, again.”  When our older son Scott walked in a few moments later, the two brothers fell into each other’s arms.  Then, as Scott says, Jamie doctored up and began to tell Scott and Melissa how much Taylor had improved overnight. 

Though the doctors could not explain it, we knew the power behind Taylor’s miracle – nothing short of the grace of God and the power of prayer.  You see, during those critical few days, I had sent out e-mails requesting prayer for our granddaughter and her doctors.  In response, God’s worldwide network of prayer warriors had allowed their hearts to be touched as they picked up the burden of praying for Taylor. 

We received e-mails from people we have never met in India, the Far East, Germany, and across the nation.  I have no idea who told whom, but I know that friends shared overhearing groups praying at tables in restaurants and lifting up our sweet granddaughter.  God, in his infinite grace and mercy, chose to spare her in a miraculous way.  As a mother who has buried a child, I know that sometimes God chooses to answer our prayers on the other side of eternity.  At any rate, I know that we have a Father who hears.

We never, never, never give up on our children, whether they are in physical, emotional, or spiritual crises.  My story happens to be about a liver which was nearly dead, but God chose to give it new life.  Ecclesiastes 9:4 encourages us that as long as there is breath, there is hope.  While we never give up on our children, how much more should we never give up on our God?  He is able to do what no one else can do.  Pray for your children, even when you see nothing happening.  Pray for them when things are wonderful.  Above all, pray for them when there seems to be no hope, for with God, all things are possible (Matthew 19:26).

© 2011 Gerry Sisk

(06/01/11)