When I was a kid....

Since reading a long dialog on chill platform about athiesm, I have been thinking a lot about events in my life that have bolstered my faith. The most notable being the healing of my childhood asthma.

When I was about 2 I was diagnosed with asthma. My childhood was full of inhalers, breathing treatments and rounds of steroids. Asthma attacks were a daily routine for me, but a few puffs of my inhaler and I was back to being a normal kid. Then every so often my inhaler would stop working and I would end up in the er getting a breathing treatment. This would inevitably be followed by nice 2-3 day stay in the hospital. As a kid, I really never minded being in the hospital. I could lay in bed and watch tv all day. Except they would wake me up every few hours to give me a treatment. I was so used to not being able to breathe that it was just normal. My parents had a knack for making it fun too. I owe a lot to them for that.

In the 15 or so years that I had asthma, I only remember being scared 2 times. The first time was when I was transported from the Newton hospital to Wichita. My dad worked as an OR nurse in Newton so I knew all the doctor and nurses. I was terrified of going to a hospital where I didn't know anyone. The ride in the ambulance was fun though. That helped a lot. The second time was once when I was too sick to walk into the er so my dad had to carry me in. When you carry a child who's barely breathing into an er you get a lot of attention, let me tell you. A big group of doctors and nurses swarmed on me. That was pretty scary. But, like I said before this was my life, so I just thought it was normal. I don't even remember how old I was when these things happened because they didn't impact me then like they do now. I had no idea how sick I was. (Maybe you can help me out on the dates, Mom and Dad. I'm sure you remember)

What is surprising to me now is that I wasn't scared at all the last time I was in the hospital. (Again, I don't remember what age I was. It was in high school sometime) It started out just like the many other stays. Just more of the same. The difference was that the medicine they were giving me wasn't working. I wasn't getting better. I have one of the worst memories ever, you can ask Jason, but this one day I remember like it was yesterday. I was in the icu and my mom tells me I was on 100% oxygen for the first time. The moniter by my bed was reading my pulse in the 200's. You don't exactly need a machine to tell you that if you've ever experienced it. It does not feel good. It was torture to breathe. The phrase "I had an elephant on my chest" would have been an understatement. My dad was sitting by my bed holding my hand. I looked over at my dad and said, "I don't want to do this anymore." He replied, "Don't say that." Shortly after that, my mom walked in with our pastor. There may have been other people, but that's all I remember seeing. My pastor, Greg, put his hand on my chest to pray for me. To this day, I remember exactly what it felt like. As he prayed, it got easier and easier to breathe. They were able to decrease my oxygen and my heart rate slowed down. I was released from the hospital and slowly recovered. Soon, I was able to decrease my meds and then I went off them all together. I now breathe free and clear. This was truly the work of God. There is no other explanation for what happened. Even my doctor had no other explanation. I was at a place where science and medicine had nothing left to offer me. So God stepped in.

I have no idea why God saved my life and not someone else's. I wish I could say I live everyday like life is a gift. But, I'm human and I don't. I think now that maybe God has big plans for my children or their children. I look forward to seeing what they will become. One thing I always do everyday is thank God for my family. The ones who prayed for me day after day. I don't think it was one prayer that reached God, it was a lifetime of prayers that God answered in his own time.