Some days it really is a sacrifice to offer praise and thanks for our present situation. When we are stumbling, tired, and scared, God seems distant, and a grateful heart is the last thing on our mind.
1 Chronicles 16:34 - Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good, His love endures forever.
Upon leaving the hospital after the birth of my third baby, I found myself sitting on a bucket in a small kitchen, surrounded by ladies from our local church.... It was moving day. The loss of our idyllic property had been stressful but I tried to stay positive knowing that family was way more important than possessions and as long as we had each other and our health, things would be fine. I have to admit it was hard though, going home to a tiny two bedroom cottage with an open fire place for heating and just a 1/4 of an acre of yard for our children and animals to play.
However, we settled in and about three weeks after Janelle was born I noticed that she had what I thought was conjunctivitis and a tiny lump in her right cheek the size of a small pea. So off we went to our local doctor who told me not to be concerned, gave me some eye cream and said the lump was a small cyst that would disappear in time. The next Sunday during church I was still concerned and a friend said I should take her to the doctor immediately. I saw a different doctor this time and to my surprise he told me the take her to the Children's Hospital in the city! It was kind of surreal because I actually double checked with him the importance of it, mainly because it was 'once a month' Family Fellowship Sunday at church. This was where we all brought meals and dessert to share it after the service in a wonderful time of fellowship and food.... I really loved Fellowship Sunday!! I can't remember the name of the Doctor, however I remember his words, he said 'if she was my baby, I would be taking her now, I have never seen this before.'
Upon arriving at the hospital we were sent to the casualty department, where there were lots of people waiting - being that it was school holidays. Every kid and his friend had a broken arm, leg or a temperature. After a long wait we got to see the doctor, the lowly intern, then we saw another doctor, then another, then another, then another!!! Eventually we had a world renowned paediatrician ordering catscans, X-rays and a bed on the fifth floor. This was actually the burns unit but because beds were scarce, that was the doctors only choice. Sitting in that ward was one of the most confusing, surreal times of my life, my friend that had traveled in with me had gone home and I felt so alone. As I had walked down the corridor to get to our room, I saw severely burnt children floating on water beds in isolation wards, seen the faces of their distressed parents and the hard working nurses dressed in white gowns and masks changing bandages. Now I sat next to a little metal cot staring around the room holding my precious baby girl tightly in my arms. Opposite me was a five month old little boy who had three rows of stitches that stretched from one side of his head to the other. He also had a paralyzed voice box, so when he cried he sounded like a duck squawking. His cot was covered in plastic to keep things sterile to give him a chance to recover. The next bed had a young girl in it who had been thrown through the windscreen during a car accident with her mother. Next to her was a child having her third cleft palate operation, and next to our cot was a girl that I couldn't look at for very long, yet kept looking back a minute later. She was disabled, about 12 years old, and had her neck bandaged with tubes draining from it. Blood and pus oozed out from under those bandages and she was distressed and crying most of the time.
No one really spoke to me that night, or maybe they did but that feeling of being scared and alone now overshadows it.My thoughts at the time was, 'this is a mistake, my baby isn't sick, she's perfect, we don't belong here'. Yet the paediatrician words kept ringing in my ears, he had said, 'your babies condition is going to get a lot worse'.....and it did. My grateful heart was about to be tested.
READ PART THREE - https://www.mylittlejoy.com.au/blogs/news/a-mothers-hope-part-three