The Miracle of Bobby
by Kayla Rachal
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The Miracle of Bobby
First of all, I want to say that you must believe in miracles to see them happen. Chances are if you don’t believe in them, you will never see one. But miracles do happen, every day, not only once, but many times. That is the good news. However, if you are not watching very closely, you won’t recognize them as being miracles. Only Jesus can do miracles. Anything else is deceptions.
Remember, in God’s word, it tells us that Satan is roaming the earth to and fro, seeking whom he may devour? Well, it is his sole purpose to destroy your faith, your witness, and anything else that is associated with Jesus Christ.
I am going to give you an example of a miracle that has happened in my life, and I must thank God first of all not only for doing these things, but also for allowing me to have open eyes that I could see them for what they really were.
Many years ago, I was a mediocre Christian who went to church on Sunday and did all the good things I thought were right and pleasing to the Master. But something was said in the pastor’s sermon that led me to believe there was a higher plane I should be seeking after in my daily walk with God.
I began to earnestly pray for an increase of faith. Do not pray this unless you are genuinely seeking after more faith. You will understand this momentarily.
My middle daughter became a mother-to-be. A pretty normal thing, wouldn’t you say? That’s what I thought. In her fourth month of pregnancy, the ultrasound revealed some horrifying news. A portion of the baby’s brain was growing outside the head in a sac. This is called an encephalocele. The specialist who was called in strongly advised her to have an abortion. My daughter told him she did not make this baby, and neither would she take the life from this baby. The specialist was not happy. He continually, throughout the pregnancy, reinforced the fact that the baby would live only a few hours after birth, at the very best. We continued to pray and search for a sign from the Lord denying this information.
One day at work, I received a phone call from a family member. She happened to turn her television on, and it was miraculously on a channel she never watched. It was a health channel, and the show that day was on children with encephaloceles. She taped it for me, and I picked it up after work. That evening my daughter, my son-in-law, and I were watching the tape in the living room. I suddenly had to take a restroom break, and not wanting to disturb the film, I went to the one in the back of the house, next to the bedroom they were sleeping in. My daughter had moved in with us due to circumstances, as her husband worked away from home two weeks and came in two weeks. None of us felt comfortable leaving her alone for two weeks at the time.
Now, like most expectant parents and grandparents, we had been buying baby products and stashing them away in the closet since the day we were informed there was going to be a baby. As I made my way to my destination, I saw the door to their bedroom was open. I decided to close it for privacy, and what I saw sent a shiver down my spine and I actually felt the hair on my head rise. Every baby article we had purchased (bags, boxes, etc) was lined up around that bed in a perfect row. I finally had the strength to call my daughter’s name and ask what she was doing with the baby’s stuff. She said, “Nothing, mama. It’s all in the closet.” I knew I was looking at the sign we had prayed for. After recovering from the shock, I answered her and asked them to come and see.
Her first reactions were the same as mine had been. She thought I had moved everything from the closet to the floor, outlining the bed in a perfect row. With a better grip on reality, I told them that the sign we had asked for had just been given. That little baby was coming home. He would not die, and he would come home.
Our faith increased with each passing day, as the Lord spoke to us in multiple ways throughout this ordeal. Two weeks before time for her surgery to take the baby, the specialist looked her straight in the eye, and told her it was hopeless to think that the baby might live. It was virtually impossible. We just smiled and thanked him as we left the office. When outside, I turned my daughter to face me and I said, “Forget everything you just heard in there. The devil is a liar. God wouldn’t have sent us a sign only to snatch our hopes away. My God is bigger than that. He is a loving God, and perfectly capable of keeping His promises.”
The big day finally came. Immediately after my daughter’s surgery, the neurosurgeon took the baby in for a six-hour procedure to separate the encephalocele from the head, removing a large part of his brain in the process. When they were finished, she came out and told us that he would probably never suck a bottle. When offered his bottle, the little one downed his before any other baby in the unit. Then they told us if they removed the respirator, he probably wouldn’t be able to breathe on his own. Once this was done, he never missed a breath. As I said before, the devil is a liar, and the truth is not in him.
Over the course of the next three years, many things happened. First of all, the neurosurgeon recommended a shunt be inserted into his head in the event of a fluid buildup. This worked out fine. Later, they proceeded to do the same thing on the other side of his head. After this second shunt, he stopped sucking a bottle completely and had to be tube fed.
He has undergone several surgeries for various things, and we’ve been told he will never walk or talk, and he is blind. But, the strange thing is, he follows me with his eyes, and I have not yet ruled out that he will probably walk and talk one day. In God’s time, not my time, I believe Bobby will walk and talk, just like all the other children. He is now eight years old, and healthy as can be. He is not a sickly, puny little guy. In fact, he is approximately the same size as my other two grandsons, who are the same age.
Bobby is very special to us. He has been a miracle from the day of conception to this day. If the Lord took him home tomorrow, we would just have to give Him thanks for eight years worth of miracles, for Bobby is a winner either way.
This is only one of the miracles I have seen with my own eyes. There are many more that I hope to share with you in the future in the form of short stories and articles. Remember this, put on the full armor of God every day. Chances are you will need it.
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this is an amazing story, your grandson truly is a miracle!