May I Testify?
On 20 August 2016, I shared the testimony of how God delivered me and spared my life when all reason said I should have been dead in a blog post titled, “I Believe in Miracles, Because I Am One.” Now I believe He’s telling me it’s time to share the story of three other lives He saved in a most miraculous way.
Number one is
the story of my mother. I alluded to her in my August 2016 post. Momma had been
feeling bad for a while but it was nothing major. Still, she went to the doctor
and they told her she had acid reflux. Nothing they did gave her relief. Jump ahead
approximately two years, and her situation has gotten so dire that she cannot
swallow – not even saliva. Her throat had completely sealed. She could breathe,
but could not eat or drink.
Finally
a doctor diagnosed esophageal cancer and gave her two months to live. They gave
her a “peg” tube so that she could receive nutrients via liquids such as Ensure.
She received radiation treatments and chemotherapy and was scheduled for
surgery. The church was praying and interceding on her behalf. Prior to her scheduled
surgery, the doctor wanted another image taken of her esophagus so that he would
know for certain what the surgery would entail. There was nothing there; no
cancer; no surgery!
After
her deliverance from cancer they said she would eventually need a tracheostomy to
breathe because though the cancer was gone, her throat was still closed. They
also predicted she would need an electrolarynx (throat back) to speak, and that
she would always have the peg tube. Not only were they wrong on all three
counts, one of her doctors developed a procedure that opened her throat and
allows her to eat! Hallelujah!
The
second life saved in this testimony began when my mother was dealing with her
cancer scare. As soon as I heard of her diagnosis and her two-month life
sentence, I jumped on a plane despite my doctor’s disapproval. My husband and I
were stationed in Germany and I was four months into my fifth pregnancy, the
previous four having ended in miscarriage. I recognized the risk but also
recognized it was all in God’s hands. Whatever His plans were for this
pregnancy, my flying to see my mother, for what I was certain would be the last
time, would not change it.
So,
when my obstetrician from Bitburg Air Base in Germany called my mother’s home
in North Carolina to instruct me to get to the nearest military hospital, I allowed
myself only a brief moment of fear and concern. Directed to Suffolk Naval Hospital (not
because of its proximity to my location but because of the doctors available
there), I was told that some of my prenatal tests taken before I left Germany
showed that my child would most likely be born with spinal bifida. It was
suggested that I abort immediately because should this child even live to be
born, it (we didn’t know the sex) would be severely deformed and live at best
for three months.
By
this time I don’t know if I was truly filled with faith or just fed up with all
of it. Either way, I refused to abort my baby. I told the “experts” I’d take my
chances and if three months was all I had, I’d take it. And if God wanted this
child, He’d have to take it as He took the four before. (Maybe I was a bit
angry at God but ‘we’re still together.’) They offered to run more tests, which
I declined, as those tests increased the risk of causing miscarriages.
To
close this out and get to life number three, I walked out of that hospital and
returned to my mother for a few more weeks. Then got back on an airplane and
returned to my husband just in time to celebrate his twenty-ninth birthday. Back
in Germany, I survived a small car accident that caused me and my doctor all
kinds of stress, then right about my due date gave birth to a beautiful baby
girl via an emergency C-section. She is now twenty-three years old, healthy, smart,
gifted, and if I say so myself (and I do), even more beautiful than the day she
was born.
Life
number three came five years and three pregnancies later. My pregnancy with my
second born was a whirlwind. I’d suffered two more miscarriages since the miracle
birth of my first-born, and I was just fed-up. So when I began to bleed - heavily - somewhere around the thirteenth week of gestation, I just thought, ‘Here
we go again.”
My doctor believed
my placenta had torn and wanted to admit me to the hospital. “No,” I told her
simply. This all took place only a few months after the attack on America on
9/11. My husband was working crazy hours as active duty Air Force in a critical
job; my family was on the other side of the country; I had a child at home to
care for. No.
Doc asked if I would
promise to go on bed rest. No. This child I was carrying was not promised to me,
and the one at home was depending on me. Besides, I had learned in my previous
pregnancies that it didn’t matter what I did. God was the One who’d determine
the fate of my baby. (This is not to say I didn’t care or didn’t take care and do
all I could to have a healthy baby. I just realized it was not in my power to
give this child life.) She finally got me to promise to take it easy and not
pick-up the toddler I had at home. She then gave me the direct line to her
office, her home phone number, her cell number, and her husband’s cell number
and sent me on my way.
She felt if I
could just make it to twenty to twenty-three weeks gestation they could take
the baby and give her a good chance of survival. My faith was not great at that
time, but I had friends who prayed for me and with me. And God, in His
mysterious ways, answered. Without any medical assistance, the bleeding stopped
as suddenly as it started about two or three weeks later.
My baby was
monitored constantly and was born via VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) at
forty-weeks and one-day gestation, one day late. She was healthy and strong and
as beautiful as her sister. She still is. She has food allergies and some other
minor “hiccups” in her health but you wouldn’t know that unless someone told you.
I believe God
had me to share these testimonies with you today because, one, we overcome by
the blood of the Lamb AND the word of our testimony. (Revelation
12:11) Two, sharing with you will strengthen my faith and help me to trust
God more. In sharing my testimony I am reminded not only of the faithfulness of
God, but that He is never changing; which means if He did it before He can do
it again. (Malachi
3:6; Hebrews 13:8) Finally, I share it because there is so much suffering
and death around us now in the era of COVID-19. People are struggling and some
are close to losing their faith. If I can get just one person to hold on to God’s
unchanging hand, I will bless Him. 1
Peter 3:15 tells us to give a defense or explain the reason for the hope we
have. These testimonies are my defense; they are the reason I have hope.
Be blessed and
keep hoping.
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