Miriam, my oldest, was born in Manila – assembled in the Philippines from American components was the title of the prayer letter we sent out. The photograph of me holding her says everything that could be said about how I felt. She was definitely the best thing that had ever happened to me (besides her mother)!
Before she was a year old, she contracted Dengue fever. In 3rd world countries, death from this virus is very common and I was terrified. My charming, happy, active baby lay in her crib too weak to move or even cry. The first night was agonizing; the second night was overwhelming, and in the dark I fell on my face on the floor beside her crib and began praying for her. I lay on the floor for two hours, crying and pleading.
Suddenly, as if a cleansing water had been poured over me, I felt peace. And I knew. Though I didn’t hear any words, God spoke to me, directly to my heart and mind. I suddenly knew that Miriam belonged to God, that she was in a very literal way being held in His hands. I also knew very clearly that this was not a promise that Miriam would recover, only that she belonged to God. All the fear and worry was gone, and even though I didn’t know if Miriam would survive the night I went to bed and slept as peacefully as I ever have. The next day she began improving.
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