We had no desire for a big to-do. No fanfare, party or even a fancy cake. The day was too sacred for all that.
Our baby is alive. She’s well. She’s one year old.
We had a family meeting of thanksgiving. It seemed more appropriate than throwing balloons around.
Oh, how very, very good is the God we adore.
He didn’t have to give Galilea back to us. He could have taken her to His side and to Damian from that operating table long ago. He didn’t have to place us in the right place, with the right doctors, at the right time. He didn’t have to heal so perfectly that one surgery was sufficient. He didn’t have to love us so profoundly.
Our faithful, unchangeable Friend. There is no one like Him. Lover of our souls! Life and light. Joy immeasurable. There is no existence without our Friend, the one whose Lo I am With You has never failed, has never faltered or even wavered. He has held us by the right hand, has led us through the valley of the shadow of death, has led us up again to the mountain of myrrh.
There is a particular breaking at that place of ultimate sacrifice, where the word bittersweet finds the true womb of her existence. Where gratitude’s ocean began as a stream, pouring from an open side.
Truly, our God’s love is as great as His power; grand expressions bound together with an empathetic tenderness beyond our comprehension. Talitha cumi, those beautiful, gentle words of love and power, still reaching through from the highest of glories to touch the tiny body of a very sick little girl.
I wonder why He saved her life. May it be worth it! Galilea Persis, today you are one and we’ve praised Him for all that is past. Now to trust Him….you too little one…for all that’s to come.