Trials Grow Our Faith

A Grandbaby Teaches His Grandma about Faith

My husband and I have a new grandson! Landon Taylor DeQuina was born October 20, 2010 in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. It was wonderful to fly to the States and spend time with him and his parents—our sweet daughter Rachel and our wonderful son-in-law, Matt.

Rachel was born in the Philippines with a heart defect. Her pediatrician flew with Rick, Rachel, and I to the Manila Heart Center. Many tests were performed only to confirm that our fears were even worse than we first imagined. A few days later, Rick’s sister Connie and her husband Bill Graves, who was in the Oklahoma State Legislature, asked then Congressman Mickey Edwards if he could help us. He called Clark Air Force Base and the next thing we knew, an ambulance was taking our baby an hour away to the base. After a few more tests, doctors there told us even more bad news. To make a long story short, we put our newborn on a US Air Force Medi-Vac plane and she was flown to Oklahoma City. Rick and I, along with our seven-year-old son Ricky, followed on a commercial flight. By the time we landed in Oklahoma City, our 17-day-old infant had just been through open heart surgery. That was the first of many trials our precious daughter has had to endure throughout her young life.

Fast forward some twenty years. We are in a Milwaukee hospital room, waiting for Rachel to deliver her son. Nothing is going right. I assumed that since she was a high-risk pregnancy, her cardiologist would be there, or at least checking in with us throughout the day—wrong. Since Rachel was being induced three days earlier than scheduled, I asked the nurse if we could at least call the cardiologist and inform him that she was in labor. She did, and informed me that he or one of his associates would be on call if they should be needed. What! Is that all?

Then a very young anesthesiologist came in to administer the epidural. A few hours later, it was not working and the pains were coming fast and furious. This extremely young man came in again and again to try to fix the problem, but it was to no avail. Those of us who have been through childbirth know that it hurts. In fact, all of us are sure that ours hurt a lot more than everyone else’s. But going through it ourselves, and seeing our daughters go through it, is a totally different ballgame. We want the problem fixed, and we want it fixed now!

I’m sure my daughter would not want me to share with the whole world that by now she was screaming and crying in pain, so I won’t. It was time for me to take action! I yelled at this poor kid (the-barely-out-of-high-school anesthesiologist) to call Rachel’s doctor, “Right now!” When the doctor finally came (to my mind) slowly dragging in, he told Matt and Rachel that heart rates were not doing well, pain meds were not doing well, Grandma was not doing well, and besides he needed to hurry home to supper—well, maybe he didn’t say that. I later wondered if I was the worst grandma this poor man has had to endure.

Meanwhile, my husband was sick and in a hospital in the Philippines. Not wanting to alarm him, I smilingly announced into Matt’s cell phone that all was going well.

In a nutshell, the doctor was going to try forceps and if that didn’t work, a C-section. Suddenly the room filled with people. I was so filled with fear for my daughter that I thought I was going to pass out. I looked at all the people in there and walked over to a corner of the room and prayed. I told the Lord, “Father, these people may or may not know what in the world they’re doing, and my yelling at them may or may not help, so I am giving up trying to reason with them. It’s totally useless; You are the one in control of everything going on in this room anyway. But Father, this is our Rachel, the one You have delivered so many times in the past. I know if You want her, You will take her, no matter what I ask. After all, her dad and I gave her to You before she was born. Nevertheless, I am asking what I’ve asked for the past nine months—please give her a safe delivery and healthy baby.” And He did.

James 1:2–4, 12 says: “My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations, Knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience. But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing. Blessed is the man that endureth temptation for when he is tried, he shall receive the crown of life, which the Lord hath promised to them that love him.

I heard a sermon on this a while ago. The preacher said that temptation is any kind of testing under trial. The above experience was indeed a testing under trial for me. I think I flunked the test.

The preacher also said that God shouldn’t have to justify what He allows to come into our lives. He has the right to deem what’s best for us. “Thank you little Landon, for reminding me of this. Granny loves and misses you very much!”

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