“We have detected a possible issue with the baby’s heart. We will need to run an EKG to know more and see what next steps need to be taken.” These are the words that were spoken to my wife and me only 24 hours after the birth of my son, Shepherd. I sat watching my little boy sleep in the hospital bassinet. He seemed so peaceful and tranquil, but I also watched as his breath appeared in rapid succession, which I had not truly noticed up until then. We had assumed everything was fine, and now it seemed like our world was spinning off into turmoil.
I have long suffered with anxiety in my life, and these words threatened to send me into a spiral of despair. What people often overlook is what happens after the doctor delivers unwanted news and then leaves the room. You feel alone and helpless, isolated and afraid. Andrea and I were left alone with our son and utterly helpless to the event occurring around us. We, of course, cried and then encouraged each other; we knew that the doctors were going to do everything they could to find out what was going on. We gave each other pep talks, held Shepherd, and waited for the Doctor to return to take our son to the EKG.
And of course, we prayed.
While waiting, my exhausted wife fell into a much-needed nap, which left me alone with Shepherd. I was terrified, petrified, and absolutely at a loss for what to do next. Here was this little boy who needed help, and I, as his father, couldn’t do anything. What if they couldn’t fix the issue, what if he wouldn’t be able to live a “normal” life? What if, what if what if? Through this torrent of mental questions came a clear voice to go and pick up my son and hold him. I went over to the bassinet and picked up the little bundle. He was sleeping soundly, blissfully unaware of the turbulent atmosphere around him. I sat down in a chair and began to rock him back and forth. I suddenly felt compelled to whisper, “Your dad will always love you.” Such a simple and unassuming phrase, right? Of course, I’m going to love my son! How would this change anything about that aspect of being a father? And yet I found myself whispering it over and over again, “Your dad will always love you.” Each time I said it, the anxiety became less; each time I said it, my role became clearer. I could not fix this issue myself, but I could do something that nobody else in this world could do.
I could love this child as only his father could.
When facing the giant in our lives, sometimes the only remedy is the solemn and beautiful reminder that our Heavenly Father loves us. He will never abandon us nor forsake us; he will always be a presence of healing, correction, and redemption. And when all else fades away in the strapping of this earth, he promises to lead us to eternity to dwell with him for all time. As Paul writes to the Romans, “No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
As for Shepherd, they ran the EKG and found several openings in his heart; he had to be taken to the NICU for several days of oxygen, which closed up the holes. His breathing became normal and unlabored, and his heart sounded strong. Now, he has a set of lungs on him that truly “delights” both Andrea, me, and his sister Shiloh. We brought our little boy home on a beautiful Sunday morning in May, singing and tearfully praying the whole way home. I understand now so much more on a deeper level those simple words in 1st John, “We love because he first loved us.”
How Deep Our Heavenly Father’s Love for Us!
—
Pastor Mike McVey
Minister – First Methodist Church, Fairfield, TX
ACS Chaplain – United States Coast Guard, Station Galveston, TX
