When his name was called, we walked into the lab room. They asked my husband to hold Rob in his lap and hold down his little arms so that they could draw a significant

amount of blood. My husband’s legs began to shake, and his tears just flowed as he watched Rob so quietly, without a whimper, allow the phlebotomist to draw blood from his tiny arms.

We were then escorted to the exam room, where a team of doctors, along with the Head of Pediatrics, was waiting for us. They poked and prodded, they took notes. They told us that he looked incredibly healthy for a patient with such devastating bloodwork. Before we left, we were given explicit instructions that every week for the next 8 weeks we were to take Rob to the pediatrician’s office for bloodwork.

They needed to keep track of his blood cell count.

And so we did.

During that time we traveled to Florida to visit with family and celebrate Rob’s first birthday. Rob became incredibly ill. He developed a high fever that sent him into a seizure. An ambulance ride, more doctors, and more blood work turned our visit with family into a medical emergency. This birthday and

everyone thereafter was memorable.

Upon returning to Los Angeles, the last test showed a marked improvement, so much so that the doctors at Cedars did not believe that there was any need to continue with the bloodwork, but simply keep an eye on his yearly checkup blood tests.

Until he turned 4 years old and everything changed… again.

It was a usual four-year-old checkup. This time Rob was talkative, aware, inquisitive, and a lot of fun. This bloodwork was not good. They didn’t even let us go home. The pediatrician asked that we go to the hospital immediately. I looked up at her and said, “can we wait a week, please give me a week.” She looked at me, puzzled. I do not really understand how I would consider delaying something so serious. But she obliged. That week was the week I prayed, pleaded, fasted, anointed, and believed that my son was healed and that he was whole.

A week went by and that Saturday morning we had our follow-up blood work. Before we left the house, we prayed over Rob and anointed him with oil, and he immediately said, “why are you putting oil on my head?” I said, “because we are going to get our miracle.” It was a 25-minute car ride yet it seemed like an hour. We drove in complete silence.

When we arrived at the pediatrician’s office, this time there weren’t smiles, our nurse was quiet, and the mood was solemn. They drew blood and asked us to please wait. The doctor came in and said she needed to double-check something. At this point, our hearts were pounding out of our chests. Upon her return, she said, “I can’t explain this, but last week Rob had full-blown Leukemia, and today his results are of a patient with a cold, you can go home – he’s healthy.” My husband immediately walked out of the exam room and out of the building…he needed to be alone. I knew he needed the privacy to weep. I picked Rob up, held him tight, and told him, “we got our miracle.” My beautiful curly-haired boy is now 22 years old. A strong, healthy young man that has seen his share of trials.

Yet, I can never forget that afternoon, 22 years ago when I screamed, why me, why him, why us?

I now know why. God trusted us with him. God trusted us with this trial. Rob was never ours, to begin with. He belongs to God, and we will forever be thankful that God chose us to walk through that valley to acknowledge his great love and mercy.

Can God trust you?

Lesson:

Why me, why him, why us? Why not. Surround yourself with people that will hold you up when you can’t stand on your own and trust a living God that will carry you when you can’t walk

‘Til Tuesday