William will be 5 years old this Sunday, September 11. We rejoice! Here is a poem I wrote some time ago. Happy Birthday, son. William’s Storm… Barely above a pound jettisoned into life Peeking through gauze Poked, prodded, stuck and skewered Surrounded by white coats, bright lights, beeps and bottles hanging on poles. Home […]
When you’re sitting in a small, white room where the couch is too small and there aren’t enough chairs, faith takes on a whole new meaning. Despite the strife looming in that room, I could feel faith. Faith has a feeling. I could touch it. Faith had His arms wrapped around me. The doctor told us that 35% of these babies don’t make it. We were going with the 65%! I tearfully said, “Doc, we believe in a higher being. My son’s in there fighting. If he’s fighting, then we’re out here fighting for him.”
That night Lisa and I sat with William. He held our hands. He opened his eyes and looked at us. Not sure who’s eyes were wider ours or William’s. Has faith ever widened your eyes?