Today is a big day. Davy has the procedure to fully close her PDA.
We got to the hospital around 6:30 this morning and they took Davy back for the procedure at 8:15.
The hardest part is always coming to the doors where you know you can’t pass. There is an awkward moment when the medical team just stands there and looks at you with eyes that have already told you what you don’t want to hear, yet you ask anyway, “Is this where we say goodbye?”
Chels and I look at each other with misty eyes and then glance at our precious Davy girl. We squeeze her close cheek to cheek. We kiss her. We speak encouraging words to her. Then we lay hands on her and pray for God’s protection over this operation.
(Davy even makes hospital gowns look cute!)
The moment eventually comes, no matter how long you try to prolong it, where you have to hand her over to the medical team. Then you step back and watch them walk down the fluorescent hallways as the electronic doors slowly close. Davy looks calm. An answered prayer that she would be given a spirit of peace. We stand there for a moment, even though the doors have closed, because that’s what you’re supposed to do right? I think we pause momentarily because we are feebly attempting to make our faith galvanize into something formidable. However, no matter how hard you try to strengthen your resolve you realize that faith is still faith – it’s the conviction of things not seen.
This morning, as we were leaving the house, the Lord impressed a question upon my heart, “Scott, where’s your hope?”
I realized that so often I place my hope in the things of this world. I place my hope in the skills of our doctors. I place my hope in the wisdom of the medical team. I place my hope in the advancement of the medical equipment that’s used.
Yet, God brought Psalm 20:7 to mind as I reflected on this question. “Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God”. Yes, it’s good to be thankful for the talent of doctors, the intellectual prowess of medical teams and for the advancement that has taken place within the medical field, but ultimately, when all things are said and done, God is the one in control (Ps. 115:3) and the only one worthy of our ultimate trust.
So as Davy is in her procedure, and I write these words, I’m speaking this truth over my fickle heart: Some trust in doctors and some in medical advancement, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God.
Thank you all again for your continued prayers and we’ll keep everyone updated as soon as she’s out.