It was an exciting Saturday in the Allen household as my family and I were preparing for friends from Georgia to come and stay the evening with us. That morning, we were doing all of the usual ‘nonchalant’ things that hosts do to help guests feel comfortable….
The kids were running around half naked fending for themselves but happy as clams. The music was on. The weather was beautiful. The race was on to get everything ready.
My son Luke, was 100% healthy and as rambunctious as ever. Climbing on things, pushing his sister, stealing chocolates from the treat drawer, you name it. He’s an extremely obedient boy….but a boy nonetheless.
Our guests come and we had an awesome time drinking beer and reconnecting and laughing. Our kids were bonding and playing with each other so happily. It was just one of those days where you think nothing possibly could go wrong on a day like today.
Our guests clock out for the night, children are all safely tucked in, and Ben and I begin our usual clean up after the days mess.
My mind was supercharged while I praised God as I swept the kitchen floor. On top of the awesome day, Ben and I had been getting excited as we felt we were on the verge of experiencing the miracles and healings that Christians can have on a daily basis. I’ve been ready to stretch out and to minister, share Christ’s love in a radical way, and just grace the shit out of everybody.
And than my son woke up.
At first, I didn’t think much of it. My husband whisked him away to not wake the guests and took him into the bathroom. I figured he was just doing the “normal” calm him down routine that usually works like clockwork.
Until all of the sudden I hear,
“Ro, Come check Luke out. Come listen to his breathing”
You know that sudden burst of panic you feel when you sense someone you love is in danger?
In .2 seconds I was by his side checking out the situation and immediately I felt that something was terribly, terribly, wrong.
He could barely breathe. My son, my healthy 3 year old, could barely breathe. It sounded like he was breathing through a coffee stirrer and every time he inhaled or exhaled, he wheezed. He looked terrified. My heart sank and fear shot into every ounce of my bones.
In that moment, I managed to remember what I had been getting so excited about (the healing thing, remember?) and immediately and firmly declared.
“You will NOT die and you WILL breathe again in the powerful name of Jesus Christ”
Than I looked up at Ben and said,
“We need to get to the hospital, now”
I ran into the guests room, woke them up and told them they were now in charge of taking care of Josephine (My 2 year old). They didn’t have time to think or to even know what time it was.
We blasted out of there with no shoes or a wallet or anything important really, and sped to the nearest hospital about 10 minutes away.
During this time, I was in the back of our van with Luke. He seemed to be getting worse and I layed my hands on him while singing a popular worship song softly to calm him down (and to build my faith)
“There is power in the name of Jesus”
In those 10 minutes I had a constant, ongoing choice. I had a choice to let that fear and panic overwhelm and consume me. I had every right. He was my child, and the thought of losing something so precious would give anybody a right to become absolute jello.
So in each second, I chose to remain calm, to firmly declare Gods protection over my sons life, and determine that the day was going to end with my son smiling and healthy again, as though nothing ever happened.
It was a battle. We are in a battle, friends. The devil wants to win in those situations and decide the victory is his. He doesn’t. have. the. right.
2 hours later, Lukey was completely back to normal. I have the doctor, the nurses, the cops, and the rest of the hospital team to thank. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I wish I could remember his “diagnosis”, I really do, but it was a sudden onset of something terrifying. Medicine and love helped my son breathe again. God had his hand on him the entire time, and I still firmly believe in the power of Jesus to miraculously heal. Gosh, if I could have my readers for another ten minutes, this is where I would ‘preach’. Another day, another time.
The next day, Luke was PERFECT. Like nothing ever happened. Did I mention the doctor said he would have cold like symptoms? Yeah, NOPE. He was my healthy happy rambunctious 3 year old, once again.
So in the moment friends, you have a choice. God is right there, ready to extend his hand. He is SO ready. Fear has no place when perfect love is known. Darkness has no right when light comes to take its’ rightful stand.
Forget about the lost battles….let’s move on. Let’s build our relationship on the one who has already SLAMMED DUNKED the victory.