Dear God, I want to just talk a little with you today about what happened 31 years ago. My best friend from high school got married, and I was grateful to be selected as his best man. My wife and I had been married three years at that point, and we flew from our home in Dallas to Houston for the wedding. During the rehearsal dinner, my wife started having abdominal pain. I took her back to our hotel room after the dinner and then went out with the groom and some of his college friends and hung out until about 2:00 in the morning. When I got back to the room, my wife was still in a lot of pain, so I took her to a local Emergency Room. I can’t remember if it was while we were waiting to be taken back (which took a couple of hours) or while we were waiting for a room where she could be admitted (which took even more hours), at some point she told me that before we left Dallas she felt like you had told her, “Your pregnant. It’s a girl. It’s not going to work out.” As it turned out, she had an ectopic pregnancy and we were afraid she would have to lose one of her fallopian tubes. Of course, that would impact our ability to have children in the future. Our doctor was Iranian and it was difficult to understand him through his accent (and he didn’t have the warmest personality). My mother-in-law’s GYN consulted with us by phone and helped us in our decision making. My mother-in-law came from Austin. My parents were already in Houston for the wedding. Thankfully, later that night my mother was with my wife when she passed the pregnancy on her own. I left for a few hours during that Saturday to be part of the wedding, but I didn’t stick around for the reception. I just went back to the hospital as soon as I could.
I have a distinct memory of being on my knees at her bedside and praying to you. I was praying that I trusted you. My heart was broken. I was crying. But I told you that I believed and trusted in you so much that even if I was wrong and the path of following you led to hell then I would follow you to hell. The did surgery on her two days later to make sure everything was okay. She was able to not have anything removed, and we would end up getting pregnant with our son just two months later. One of the hardest parts was getting my wife home. I had to drive her to the airport with only a big t-shirt on and a stuffed dog I bought her at a local Toys R Us sitting in her lap. Every imperfection in the road hurt. I wheeled her through the airport, we boarded our Southwest flight, got back to Love Field in Dallas and then drove back to our third-floor apartment. It was quite the thing for a 24- (her) and 25-year old (me) to go through.
We named our unborn girl Sandra, and every year I remember August 12 as her “birthday,” or the day my wife passed her pregnancy on her own. I also remember my friends anniversary that same day. I always know how long they’ve been married too.
Father, I don’t know where Sandra is right now. I like to imagine her looking down on the parents who never met her, but whom she loves and cares about. As she looks at her two siblings, one of whom would not have been born if her pregnancy had made it, I like to think of her praying for them. That she loves them even though I don’t think they regard her existence as very real. But I do. I think she prays for my wife and me too. Especially our struggles and sorrows. I told my wife that I hope she’s proud of us as she watches to move through life. I hope she’s enjoying the love she feels from my wife’s parents who have already passed from this world into the next. From my grandparents. She’s part of our family. Our legacy. And I’ll get to meet her one day. One day, I will understand so much more than I understand now. Oh, what a joy that will be. So happy anniversary, 31st Johnny and Karen. Happy 31st birthday, Sandra. All of you have my love. Father, please bless Johnny and Karen with your presence in their lives and enjoy the worship and presence of my daughter.
I pray this in Jesus and with your Holy Spirit,
Amen
Emails to God 