Once Upon a Fever

It was years ago...my oldest daughter was only four.

She had a febrile seizure just a week or so before that had caused her to stop breathing for more than a minute, a moment in my mothering life that I will never, ever forget.

And now, just a small number of days later, another fever appeared.

My body shook with the force of the fear that coursed through me as I felt the heat radiating from her body.

What if it happened again? What if we lost her this time?

I called to Steve to let him know she was sick, and that I was going downstairs to get the thermometer. Every step I took, down the stairs and to the kitchen, I prayed.

"Dear Lord, take the fever from her body. Please, God, heal my baby girl."

Back up the stairs, my prayers continued. Tears welled in my eyes, my heart hammering within my chest.

Walking into her bedroom, I had no sense that anything had changed. It wasn't until I sat next to her small form that I realized that the heat I had felt so easily just moments before was gone.

Placing my hand on her forehead, I felt only a light sheen of sweat. No fever, no unnatural warmth.

Just because, I slipped the thermometer in her mouth.

97.9

Less than average.

I ran into my bedroom, the thermometer clutched in my fist.

"Were you praying?" I asked Steve.

He looked at me strangely. "Yes," he said slowly. "I was praying for Kahlan's fever to break."

"I was too," I responded. "And it did."

It was one of the few times in my life that I truly feel I witnessed a miracle. Though God doesn't always answer our prayers in the way we expect or hope for, that night He did.

Kahlan didn't have another fever for years. Years.

God is so good.

"Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete." (John 16:24)

The Battle with Fear

It has been a difficult and yet blessed season in my life over the last few weeks.

On one hand, my Christmas morning was beautiful and serene. The children add so much joy to my life, and seeing their excitement brought back so many good memories of my own childhood Christmas mornings.

We were supposed to leave later that day to drive six hours to Chicago and board the train to Rochester so that we could spend the remainder of the time with my family. Unfortunately, weather got the best of us and we had to turn around after hitting a particularly bad blizzard.

I don't know if that is what sparked it, or if it just the stress of the holidays in general, but I have definitely been dealing with some anxiety lately.

Tonight, my two youngest children are sick. Stomach flu I can handle...it might be gross, but it is predictable. But my weakness in the "my child is sick" anxiety department is definitely any illness that involves breathing. Coughing, wheezing...anything that leaves my poor little babies gasping for breath.

I've done the dance so many times. We've sat in hot, steamy bathrooms, we've stood in the cold. We've done the vaporizers and the doctor runs. And in all those times, through all those children, nothing tragic has happened.

Then why do I fear? Why do I fear when I know that God, the Ultimate Physician, is in charge?

I hate fear. It is my weak point, and the enemy knows it well. So tonight I am repeating Philippians 4:6-7 to myself, resting in the knowledge that God loves my babies even more than I do.

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

I pray peace for all of you, as well.