Daunting, revelation-packed & faith enhancing episodes.

My lil angel

In my hotel room one lengthy wakeful night last week; I reflected on God’s infinite mercies and the glaring and humbling reality that He truly loves me finally hit home.

See, merely a fortnight ago, my little one was diagnosed with Appendicitis; Acute Appendicitis at that. We all know anything acute medically is not to pun about. So naturally, I freaked out. 

The dawn of 19^th February has been my worst by far since the inception of this year. Recollections are still vivid. I received a call from my dad notifying me about my daughter’s illness and subsequently the Doctor’s hint on surgery.

As is my routine during business days, I had been preparing to report to work when the call came through and boy oh boy was I a nervous wreck thenceforth! Yes, it’s ordinary; kids take ill every so often. Nevertheless, the mere implication of surgery for a 6yr old got me utterly spooked. I sobbed through everything that morning; showering, getting dressed, calling my supervisor to inform her/ask for an off and at worst, driving home.

I was such a train wreck on the road so much so that for the first time since I started driving, violated some traffic regulations. Obviously, I was pulled over by a Cop who on asking “How are you?” was stunned that I just broke down. To this day, I’m yet to recover from the jolt of what ensued. The lady officer was like “What’s wrong? Why do you seem to be so distraught? I confided in her and explained my situation. With all the love and in a soothing voice she said “My daughter, never ever cry when your child is ill. I want you to take a few minutes to calm down and drive carefully so you can get to your destination safely. Your child will be fine. Just believe in God. I had stopped you for overtaking at a wrong spot; however, I’ll let it slide”. 

Matter of fact, it was astounding by virtue of the fact that police officers are often stereotyped as not being capable of possessing a teeny-weeny twinge of compassion. All I could afford was a teary mystified look into her eyes and after a while, a “thank you so much maám”! This incident pumped me up. I was high-spirited for the rest of the journey. It is true what they say, 

“We find hope and guardian angels in the weirdest of places”

On my arrival home, my baby wasn’t there; apparently she had implored her grannies to let her go to school owing to the fact that she would be bored at home with the adults. This news didn't thrill me but I engaged in stuff to keep my mind off the wandering mostly horrid thoughts. For starters, I visited my former workplace – St. Francis Hospital to consult more on my girl’s ailment and also researched online for more knowledge on the subject just so I could prepare myself, mentally at least for what was forthcoming. 

When I picked her from school later that day, the realization that she was oblivious of her fate was poignant. To her, she only had a mild stomach ache and was feeling much better following the antibiotics she was taking . Oh what innocence!

Yes, they had done a scan, diagnosed her with that ailment I mentioned earlier, prescribed antibiotics for 5 days after which the Doctor would review and decide on if she was still a surgery case. These 5 days were agonizing for all and sundry particularly myself, plausibly. I couldn’t envision my little one undergoing an operation; for in my mind’s eye, routine as everyone else said it would be, I was afraid that something would go dreadfully amiss. 

Regarding the state of affairs, I requested for a 2 weeks’ break from work to enable me play caretaker to my girl and hence personally took her to see the Specialist when the recommended 5 days had elapsed. Unfortunately, he was in the Operating room handling a delicate case when we got to the hospital.  The over 2 hours wait has been the longest in my life since I became a mother. Any parent can envisage the scenes I was playing in my head at that moment. When he finally showed, Tyra started crying so hysterically I was unnerved yet again. However, I mastered all the courage I could and went into his room. He, spontaneously carried out a few procedures on her, made his observations and said “She’s okay now. The antibiotics remedied the condition. I will not need to operate”. 

I broke down yet again, only this time it was with such glee that I didn’t know how else to react. The Doctor’s words still resound in my head to this day. 

Mulling over events, I eventually comprehended why I was overcome by such intense emotions at the Doctor’s office. See, I am not a very prayerful person. Truthfully, I don’t even know how to pray.  I always recite the “Our Father, Who art in heaven” and “Hail Mary...” prayers before I retire and when I awake. I don’t know how to sermon and implore God the way other people do. And yet, He granted me a miracle. One I only solicited via a plain Whatsapp status update “Waiting on God for a miracle”. Evidently, His grace is sufficient for me. 

Prior to my break from work, I had a heart to heart with our General Manager who advised me to trust in God, by virtue of the fact that “life is His”. Yes, we are only human and despair easily; however His plans for us are perfect. And His love, eternal. I mean in lieu of praying and asking for his intervention, here I was busy engaging him in a tiff; daring Him to answer a couple of queries I had such as “why my daughter? Don’t you see that she’s still small? You took my little brother, you want to deprive me of any happiness I may have?”. It was, as might be expected, a fruitless confrontation. He is a God of actions. My daughter was healed!

Accordingly folks, on every occasion you feel heavy-laden, bear in mind that the Almighty is an all loving father; regardless of your social status, religious affiliation and deeds et al. Needless to say, He is Omniscient, Omnipresent and Omnipotent. We can only do so much. Consequently, the ultimate shot is to “Let Go and Let God!”