I think that each of us will have decide for ourselves whether this was a miracle, or whether my imagination played tricks on me.
Here’s what happened…
I was reading on the couch in the living room, and with my peripheral hearing (that’s a new term I just made up), I heard a THUD in the bedroom, followed instantly by a scream. I, just like most mothers, can tell the different screams of my three children. This one, I knew instantly, was from my youngest.
Now, in my family, when the older two scream, it doesn’t necessarily mean they’re hurt all that much. They’re likely to scream out of “I don’t like what happened” for a tiny bump, as when they get a goose-egg. But when the youngest screams… it DOES mean that she’s hurt pretty badly. So, I jumped up to race back there, and instantly I had this horrible feeling that this injury could be a bad one… something that might need hospital attention. This was somewhat unusual. I’m not the type to freak out easily, and I rarely take my children to the doctor for anything… but something made me think that it was worse than usual this time, so I pled the blood of Jesus as I raced back there, more anxious than usual.
I went into the room moments later to find her sitting on the floor, hiding in a sleeping bag. The sleeping bags were out because my SIL and her girls were sleeping here the last few nights… I knew instantly that the kids had been playing in them, and the littlest had hit her head somehow.
I pulled her out, wiped her hair out of her face, and started looking for blood.
“What happened? What did you hit?” I demanded.
Then I noticed she was holding her nose, so I pled the blood of Jesus again, and pulled her hand away to find that the left side of her nose was already black and purple and starting to swell, and there was a dark pink line across it, just above where the cartilage joins the bone. I instantly thought, “No! My daughter will NOT have a broken nose!” and before I could really think anything through, I took her face in my hands and placed my thumbs on either side of her tiny nose, practically covering it up.
I was simply reacting more than anything else, at this point. I didn’t stop to think about what I was doing… didn’t stop to think whether I had faith, or anything of that crazy nonsense that bogs us down so often. I wasn’t really thinking at all… just doing… just following my impulse.
So I put my thumbs on either side of her nose, and I prayed. I don’t remember exactly what I prayed, but it was something along the lines of commanding her nose to be straight and whole. She was still screaming hysterically when I finished, so I just pulled her into my arms, cradling her, and praying in my prayer language all the while.
Finally she started calming down a little, so I pulled her back to look at her nose again.
And there was absolutely NO black, blue or purple, and NO swelling.
I found myself afterwards wishing I had looked more closely and specifically first… you know, to have a more scientific record of just how black and blue and swollen her nose had been, etc. But then I realized that if I had done so, I probably would have started over-thinking my prayer and whether anything would happen, and I’d have probably ended up praying MY prayer, instead of whatever one God breathed out through me.
So I’m happy. My daughter does NOT have a broken nose. 🙂 And I still have that quick mental picture of what it looked like before I put my thumbs over it.
I choose to believe that God did something special for my precious little girl in that moment…