…I was on a train heading into downtown Chicago to visit a friend when my wife called. She was in the hospital. Something was wrong with the baby and they were prepping her for surgery. It was seven weeks before her due date, but they hoped everything would be alright. I got off the train and jumped on the next one back to Wheaton.
That night our son was born. We named him Isaac. It seemed appropriate because his birth came as a surprise just as Abraham and Sarah were joyfully surprised by the birth of their son in Genesis 21. So they named him laughter…Isaac.
Our Isaac was only four pounds, but strong and breathing well. But our joy
was soon mixed with worry as his health failed. He lost weight, strength, and blood. Those were extremely difficult months for our family full of tears and prayers. We grew weary as we traveled to and from the hospital to hold our tiny son, waited by the phone for test results, and met with doctors who didn’t offer much hope. But they were also months that grew our faith and communion with God. And in the end Isaac pulled through.
This day always brings back memories of pain, hope, fear, and peace. But more than anything else I am thankful for my son and the God who gave him to me.
“Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall laugh.” -Luke 6:21