Here's another entry I had written a while back but forgot to publish, but I thought it was a cute story to remember. (I don't think I rewrote this at any point, but in case it's a repeat with photos or the story, I apologize!)
I'm not sure how well you can see it, but she had been crawling on the trampoline and her little feet were dirty.
After we ate dinner, a couple weeks back, TS told me his stomach hurt. I had planned on cutting his hair and thought maybe he was trying to get out of it. But, seeing as how he doesn't typically lie, I tried to see if a little rest on the couch and some water could help him feel better.
For a little bit, I thought it was all better. But then he started getting more upset and telling me his stomach was really hurting. I asked him what was wrong, but he couldn't explain it. He kept telling me that he must have eaten too much for dinner and his stomach was too full. I didn't think that was the case.
His belly pains progressed to being much stronger. He started getting really upset and crying. To picture it correctly, he sounded just like a woman does on TV who is pretending to be in labor, only he wasn't pretending, and he wasn't in labor. I thought he must be having a really severe stomach ache.
I touched his tummy to see if he felt bloated or anything, and it was really tight. When I touched it, he started screaming and telling me to not touch it. I began feeling concerned something more serious was wrong because of how he was acting, but at the same time I assumed he must be having some painful belly cramps.
His screaming got more intense and he did the classic, "Mom, make it stop hurting!" which I'm pretty sure he did just to make me feel awful that I couldn't make it feel better for him (okay, so not really, but it's how I was feeling).
I tried snuggling him to see if it would help at all, but he couldn't handle being touched (which is a big deal for him because he's very snuggly). It had been going on like this for several minutes where he was feeling horrible, and I wasn't sure what to do. So I stayed by him and tried to talk him through it and keep an eye on him. He was crying and very, very upset, and I half expected him to birth a baby at any moment. Then suddenly he yelled, "Mom! We need to say a prayer! We need to ask Jesus to heal me!"
It was so cute and desperate. I had a split second of doubt as to whether this was going to help him like he wanted. I could easily see it being one of those things where you pray and get no answer, but I quickly agreed and said a prayer for him.
As soon as we were done saying the prayer, TS started getting more upset. The pain seemed to get a lot more intense all of a sudden. I thought, "yikes! guess the prayer didn't help at all." But within just a few seconds from the prayer being said, something changed in his look, and I realized TS was about to puke. If I didn't hurry, it was going to be all over the couch and floor. Time went into slow motion, and I jumped up, did a couple ninja kicks, and ran as fast as I could into the kitchen to grab the salad bowl (the one we will be using next time you come and visit!). I ran back in, doing a couple summersaults, and I placed it under him literally just in time for him to puke. He puked and puked and puked.
Then he said, "I think I'm all better now."
And he was. All the pain was gone. He was no longer upset, and he felt very calm. It was a drastic change from how he was feeling just seconds before. I was quite surprised at the sudden change.
Perhaps it would have happened that way either way, but the timing seemed a little freakishly perfect for it to be anything else but an answer to a prayer from a little boy who knew God would heal him. It left me with a warm feeling inside to see how pure his faith was and to see that he knew better than me that the Lord would help him feel better. It was a sweet little experience.