The Gift of Healing for a Thanksgiving Miracle Baby

My newborn nephew wasn’t expected to survive. A little voice from God told me otherwise…

by - Posted on Nov 21, 2016

The Gift of Healing for a Thanksgiving Miracle Baby

It was the day before Thanksgiving. But I wasn’t feeling very thankful. 

I threw some clothes into an overnight bag, tried to keep my hands from shaking. I’d just gotten off the phone with my sister Toni. She’d given birth to a baby boy, Bradley, a week earlier, but he’d been born with a congenital heart defect. The doctors didn’t think he was going to make it.

My mom and I would be driving up to Kansas City to spend Thanksgiving with Toni and her husband at the hospital. I wished there was something I could do for them. But what they needed most was assurance that Bradley would be okay. How could I give them that? Please, God, I prayed, tell me what to do!

I wasn’t expecting an answer. But a strange sense of peace came over me. A thought popped into my head. Go ahead and buy the Bible.

Before Bradley had taken ill, I’d planned to buy him a children’s Bible with his name engraved in gold on the white cover. But it hardly seemed appropriate to bring a gift like that now. What if Bradley didn’t make it? That Bible would be a constant reminder to my sister of her loss. I couldn’t risk that.

The little voice inside persisted, though. Buy the Bible. Get it engraved with Bradley’s name.

The next day, I drove up to Kansas City with my mom and we camped out in the waiting room with Toni. I pulled my sister aside and handed her a wrapped package.

“God told me to buy this,” I said. “He wouldn’t have if Bradley wasn’t going to make it, I’m certain.”  My sister unwrapped the Bible, tears in her eyes, and hugged me tight.

That Bible gave my sister the faith to stay strong. The following week, Bradley underwent surgery and lost a lot of blood. He was too weak to survive another procedure, and yet the surgeon had no other choice but to operate again. My sister signed the release papers while clutching the little white Bible. Minutes later, the surgeon popped back in the waiting room.

“The bleeding just stopped!” he said. “I don’t know how, but Bradley won’t need additional surgery. He’s going to make it.”

Thirty years later, Bradley is healthy and happy, and still has that little white Bible. A constant reminder of everything we have to be thankful for.

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