Sheila Sims Iding
We know the drill. You see a couple expecting a baby and you ask if they are hoping for a boy or a girl. The answer is usually typical…and sincere. They almost always say “We don’t care as long as the baby is healthy.”. And that probably is true. Although I do think some people have some sort of preference...the “as long as the baby is healthy” line is true of everyone. Except me.
Not that I didn’t want a healthy baby. God forbid. Not that I couldn’t say those words or didn’t wish those words but my answer was not cut and dry. It was not typical. My answer to the question are you hoping for a boy or a girl was “I don’t care as long as it’s God’s will.”
My prayer was always for God’s will. Not that I wanted a sick child or hope for a special need or felt called to some special mission as a mom…it’s just that I had seen my dad care for mom. I knew that with God all things were possible so my prayer was never for a healthy child. It may have been my wish…it may have been my hope…but my prayer was for God’s will. Boy or girl. Weak or strong. Healthy or not. Better or worse. God’s will.
Before she got sick my mom taught us how to pray on our knees. She said prayers with us every night by the side of our bed, on our knees, until she was too sick. I was probably 7 or 8 by then so under her tillage as we said the The Lord’s Prayer every night we said the words “thy will be done”. Night after night. Kneeling after kneeling. Thy will be done. I believed strongly in God’s will and knew all sides of it. The blessings it brings, the challenges it brings, the uncertainty it brings. Thy will be done.
So 32 years ago today when Joey was born and for the first time I held my own newborn baby, I thanked God for His will. From the moment I felt life within me, we named the baby. Some people wait to find a sure name. Some people wait to see the baby to make sure the name ‘fits” but I like to have the name in place so when I pray, when I sing, when I talk to my little one waiting to be born, I like for the baby to have a name. So…Joey…was Sarah MaryJane for almost 6 months. So I guess we know the answer to what flavor baby I was thinking I would have. And when they placed Sarah MaryJane’s brother (Joseph Jacques) in my arms and he looked so strong and healthy, I guess we know my secret hope was for God’s will to grant us a healthy boy.
Then came the symptoms of what we thought was a milk allergy, then came the nonstop infections, the reactions to medications, the surgeries, the hospitalizations, the diagnosis (THE cystic fibrosis diagnosis), the birthday in a Minnesota hospital, the summer in a Denver hospital, the ICU’s, the endless string of doctor appointments, medical tests and medications, the life expectancy. No parent wants to hear a life expectancy number especially when it is only 15. A frequently sick little baby turned into a really sick toddler turned into a critically sick child…and a mother deep in worry, deeper in fear and deepest in doubt.
For the first time I questioned my courageous prayer of “I don’t care as long as it’s God’s will.” Did He hear my prayer? Did He know my heart? What if I had been the mom who prayed for a healthy child? What if I hadn’t been so cavalier? What if like most parents I just prayed and hoped and wished for a healthy child? What if?
I had a beautiful child with an incurable disease and drug reactions so poisonous to his body that he couldn’t take the very medications he needed to fight the illness. We found out in Denver that the medications made him sicker than the disease so they had to be stopped. Really? He had a life expectancy of only 15 years and he couldn’t take the medications his lungs needed to live that long. Really? God’s will?
The prayer was always for God’s will but now I doubted it. I doubted the prayer. I doubted the intent and I doubted my faith. I doubted God. Just saying. I did. And I will admit that it’s a little hypocritical of me to pray for God’s will and expect MY will be done. But there I was steeped in doubt of my prayer, in fear of a life expectancy and intolerant of my faith. God’s will indeed.
But every night, just like my mom taught me, we would kneel and pray. Three little boys, a faith-filled dad and a faith-wondering mom would kneel and pray. And every night we would say “thy will be done”. And every night those words had a special power…still. Somehow those words still would sneak into my heart. They brought a certain comfort because whatever was happening in my life…in Joey’s life…in our lives…was God’s will because that was still my prayer and still my belief. Thy will be done. Powerful words. Powerful prayer.
Today as Joey celebrates his 32nd birthday I celebrate God’s will in his life:
- No hospitalization for over 26 years. Really? What CF patient can say that? God’s will.
- No lung medicines for over 26 years. Really? A healthy CF young adult without daily treatments? That is not only God’s will…it is some sort of miracle. I’d be foolish to believe anything less.
- The one medicine he had to take to grow and get strong…the one medicine he had to take up to 40-50 pills a day…is the ONE medicine his body tolerated because it was an enzyme that was all natural. God’s will. Miracle.
- This sick little baby and critically sick young child grew up so strong he had a scholarship to play college soccer. He was a Big Ten Scholar Athlete at the University of Michigan in the shadow of the very hospital where he was so sick. God’s will.
- This young adult is so healthy they retested him for CF to make sure he really had it. The test was positive…again…but, this time, so was the outlook. God’s will.
- The life expectancy has been thrown out…years ago. Even before he ran the marathon. He works so hard to be healthy and even harder to be faith-filled that life expectancy is “normal”. Okay…how is that not God’s will?
So the prayer whispered by a new mom 32 years ago…maybe a bit bold…maybe a bit naïve..but always genuine…was simply for God’s will. Nothing more. Nothing less. And tonight when I kneel by my bed and say my prayers just as my mom taught me…and just as I taught my boys…I will say The Lord’s Prayer and I will whisper “thy will be done”. And…I will fall asleep thinking of Joey and his life and his struggles when he was so young and the promises of the days ahead where he will marry the love of his life…for better for worse…in sickness and in health. And I will dream of their wedding, their lives together, the hope of their children and God’s will in their lives. And I will be reminded of the power of that prayer...those four words: thy will be done. Thy will be done, indeed.