Another #braveheart

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As we walked up, I told him we were going to pray, and as I said the words he repeated in whatever language it is he speaks.

"Lord, heal me. Let my heart be healthy. Amen."

To tell you in that moment that I had faith the size of a mustard seed would be a wild exaggeration. So go about three seed sizes down from mustard seed and you're around the size of my faith.

You see, we've heard all these scary term thrown around recently, "murmur, another one, catheters, open heart..." And in our flawed human hearts, that was all we could hear, and we could think.

We went in, and his doctor was wonderful. He did all his testing, said, "don't move" about 30 times, bribe him with a lollipop, said, "don't move" another 30 times then sat at his desk and typed for what felt like an eternity. As he typed, scenarios of what the next weeks, months, years would look like for the little travieso ran through my head. Less invasive procedure, won't work, more open heart, so much money, so much risk. The thought of his chest cracked open again for the second time in his young life, it was more than I could bear to think about.

"Okay then..."

Even D. calmed and settled in my arms, as if he too was waiting for these words that could change everything.

"It all looks good."

I am around 90% sure that the next word out of the tia's mouth was, "really?!"

He said some medical things, tiny hole, closing on its own, a couple of small issues, but nothing requiring intervention.

"Bring him back in two years."

And that was it. Handshakes, kisses, a lollipop, and off we went.

This little boy has been failed over and over by adults meant to protect him. From birth, right up to recent days. But today, God did a miracle that shows every one of us that He is enough cover our failings. These little ones are His, and their angels constantly see His face - and today Jesus interceded on behalf of that little travieso and we are all endlessly grateful.




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