I sat alone on the cold, hard wooden bench in the deserted hospital chapel and cried out to my Lord. “Oh Father! We have more faith then that of a mustard seed. Our love for each other emulates the love we first had for you. Yet something is missing.”
I did not feel greedy wanting both of them to live. For I loved and prayed for both even before I knew them. I started to pray for my wife and my child the day I found out my Heavenly Father had done so for me. Yet I sat in that desolate chapel having to make the most important decision of my 27 young years.
Dr. Mathew took me aside when the complications started and informed me I may have to choose between my beloved Kristen and our unborn child whom we created out of our love. How could one man possibly choose? So I told the doctor I couldn’t but I knew someone who could and left him standing their just outside of the birthing room with an awe struck expression plastered across his face.
“Father, how can that doctor ask me to choose? I have no claim to that right. I lay them at your feet and ask for your will to be done. I hope…I hope…I HOPE! That’s it! I hope!” I started to run as fast as my physically exhausted legs would take me back to the birthing room where I hoped my wife and child would be waiting for my return.
As I slammed through the heavy chapel doors Dr. Mathew was walking towards them. I stood frozen in place waiting for him to recognize me. When he spotted me I saw the hope I had just prayed for in his brown eyes. “Mr. Winters, I came as soon as I could. Your wife and your daughter are going to be fine. I have to tell you I feel it was a miracle both survived the operation. Your wife was hemorrhaging far too much. In the end the caesarean was more than we could have hoped for.”
I heard nothing else except that both my wife and my daughter were going to be fine. My daughter. Dr. Mathews had said I had a daughter. “Did you say my daughter?”
“Wow. My very own little girl.” My mind started to drift off when the doctor interrupted me.
“Mr. Winters would you mind if I share the elevator back up to the maternity ward with you?”
On the ride up to the seventh floor I was reminded of a verse I had read in the bible. May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. (Rom- 15:13)
Not wanting to startle my wife I quietly entered her room, walked to her side and gently lifted her hand to my heart. Her weary eyes fluttered opened as soon as she realized I was beside her. In a hushed whisper she spoke only my name.
“Shhh. Kristen, you’ve been through enough. Close your eyes now and I promise I will be here when you awake.”
“Do you like it?”
Before she slipped off into a peaceful sleep Kristen whispered, “Yes. It’s not only beautiful but it’s also perfect.”
I believe it was Kristen’s hope that pulled her and our daughter through the operation. My problem was that in my desperation I had forgotten what 1 Corinthians 13:13 says, ‘And now these three remain, faith, hope and love.’ I was missing hope when I went to the chapel earlier to pray and now I have a precious little girl who will always remind me.
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