On the 10th day of our little girl Elizabeth’s life, she was rushed by ambulance to Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital after she stopped breathing several times. Watching a team of doctors and nurses work to insert IVs into her tiny body, eventually by drilling into her little legs, brought me to tears (and still does as I think about it now).
A mysterious illness was threatening to end the life of my baby girl. At the same time, a mysterious issue began to threaten me… doubt.
I felt anger. How could God allow this to happen to her, to us, to anyone? I began to think, “Maybe this is happening because He doesn’t exist. Should I believe in a loving God? Have I missed something?” These emotion-filled questions and thoughts were assaulting the intellectual and experiential foundations of my faith.
I Thought My Faith Was Solid
I had made a public profession of faith in Jesus at an early age, 5 or 6. Going to church and Sunday School, praying at meals, and having parents who read the Bible were all normal parts of my life. But as a teenager, I wasn’t truly seeking or following Him.
Then, at age 19, my heart was changed. The Holy Spirit prompted me to read the Bible; I began to read it daily, knowing that the words were like a letter written by my heavenly Father.
In addition to reading about God’s faithfulness in the Bible, I began to experience it for myself. Every experience with God built the foundations of my faith. Reading and studying Christian apologetics further strengthened my faith.
I thought my faith was solid. But now it was being tested.
I Had A Choice
Facing the possible death of my newborn daughter, I had a choice.
I could ride the wave of anger and doubt to a godless shore, or I could swim against this tide by choosing to continue to believe that God is Who He said He is.
I went with the latter. It wasn’t easy, and the feelings of doubt didn’t immediately fade away, but I chose to trust in the only One Who could do anything about the pain and the doubt that I felt.
In the end, it shouldn’t really matter whether or not God saved Elizabeth’s life at that time. God is still God. But I am overwhelmingly happy to tell you that He did save her.
God Will Still Be There
He saved me, too. Instead of aimlessly drifting through life, Jesus became my rock, my fortress, my very present help in times of trouble.
That experience was a high intensity workout for my faith. Like any strenuous workout, I’m stronger because of it. Other tests of faith have come since then. Surely there will be more in the days ahead.
When they come, the God of the universe will still be there. If doubt creeps in, I am learning to say, “I believe, help my unbelief.”
