The Power of Prayer and a Kept Promise

I was sitting in a waiting room this week, across from me was a little girl. She was holding her forearm very protectively. She looked like an active, busy child, yet there she sat, docile. She looked to be the same age our daughter had been when she broke her forearm. I asked the little girl what had happened and how old she was. Sure enough, she was nine, the same age our girl was when she got hurt.

Where we live, it warms up around Easter and our family is often eager for a change in recreational activity. This particular Saturday I was at a practice while Craig was home with the kids.  He was busy working on something while the kids were dragging out their bikes and roller blades. Sydney couldn't find her safety gear & decided she would be okay without it. This decision was made with complete disregard for the family rule. Honestly, not something she would normally do.

In the middle of the practice, someone came to tell me Craig was at ER with Sydney. I honestly don't remember who it was that said this. I just remember the driving need to be with my daughter.  I excused myself from practice, checked in with my boys, picked a few things up and went to the hospital. There Craig sat with Sydney; she was lying on a gurney holding her arm rather gingerly. 

It was a displaced fracture.  The medical team was waiting for a Respiratory Specialist and other essential staff to come. They gave Sydney a drug that would prevent her from remembering what happened but, unfortunately, would not ease the pain. She begged me not to leave her. After a little while, she was getting silly as the drug took effect. At that point, the medical team was assembling and getting things in order. A friend who worked the ER stopped by and said " Lisa, you don't want to be here for this. She won't remember. Come with me." I couldn't leave, I told him "I just promised her I wouldn't leave. I have to stay." He shook his head at me, " You really, really, don't want to be here, she won't remember. You don't want to see this. She isn't going to remember anything." I told him I couldn't break my promise, I needed to stay. I would know I had broken my promise, and I couldn't live with that.

The respiratory specialist was a mom, she stood next to me keeping watch over her equipment and my girl.  I curled up by Sydney, wrapped my arms around her and began to pray softly into her ear. I think what my friend meant was, you don't want to hear this. This horrid, moaning whimper escaped from my little Peanut as two full-grown men began to pull on her forearm. They were struggling to get it into place and called a third large Doctor to help them get the needed traction. My stomach felt sick as I listened to her moan. I continued to whisper prayer into her ear. They finally finished, and mercifully her cries ended. The respiratory nurse put her hand on my back and said " I am glad you could stay with her. I can't believe you aren't falling apart, I can't help crying!" At that point, tears sprang into my eyes. The team disbanded, and my friend who had stayed said "You did good, I told you that you didn't want to be here." He gave me a hug and went on to work. 

The meds slowly wore off, they gave her a cast and eventually we got home.  A few days later we were sitting in the living room reading, and Sydney piped up " You stayed with me, Mom."

I confirmed that I had. "I could hear you praying in my ear. Thanks for staying Mom."  I told her that she couldn't remember, she had been given meds that would make her not remember. " I remember Mom, you were praying in my ear." As we talked about it we concluded that it was something God made happen to give her comfort in a difficult time.

I was amazed. How could she remember? I asked her questions about other things that happened while she was under the influence. Not one other detail could she remember. In the months that followed, every once in a while she would mention how she could hear those prayers. Every time I marveled at what an Almighty God we have. It showed me that the God of all Comfort is bigger than our fancy medicines. He allowed it to block her memory of the pain but overpowered it so that she could experience his presence and comfort through the prayers of her Mom. Prayers whispered in her ear. What an incredible and powerful gift prayer is. What a Mighty God.