Have you ever been in a situation where you find yourself falling to your knees in desperate, urgent prayer, pleading for someone you’ve never even met?
A year and a half ago, our family found ourselves in that very scenario.
Our sister-in-law’s sister’s daughter sustained a very tragic, very serious injury. Comatose for weeks, medical wisdom suggested this little one (about the age of our Ruby), would not survive.
What the family was going through was heart wrenching. Just a few days before Christmas, they were facing the real possibility of burying their little one. We, like so many others, were scrambling for something to do to support them. He-Man had just lost his job and money was ridiculously tight. We felt helpless.
We realized, living so far away and with very little means, all we could do was pray.
And so we did. Fervently.
We added our voices and tears to the hundreds, if not thousands, of people pleading for Ell and her family and pouring over any updates made available through social media.
Days, weeks and finally months passed and eventually this precious baby miraculously pulled through. Certainly not unaffected, she is still recovering from a TBI and has had to relearn so much. Last summer, after a suspected seizure in a pool, she nearly drowned.
Gratefully, her mother knows CPR and saved her life.
A couple of weeks ago I attended a wedding. While there, I got to meet Miss Ell. Seeing her for the first time, I found myself wanting to fall to my knees again. Only this time, they were tears of joy. (Don’t worry, I restrained myself because who wants to be that creepy stranger who keeps weeping and hugging random children?)
Clearly, Ell has already had to fight some serious battles in her short life but she obviously has greatness ahead of her. Already, she is a teacher. She has taught so many of the power that comes from prayer. She has taught us about miracles.
Such a miracle is a beautiful thing.