"You call me out upon the waters.."

In my last blog entry, "Rest," I talked about the need to see the safety gauges God gives us. As I concluded, I spoke also of the empowering grace God gives us to overcome in moments of great trial, when we are called upon to 'step up' rather than 'step aside'.

I have a recent story that illustrates this latter point.

Having more children than most (13), is truly wonderful. It is MORE of everything. All the good bits, and all the bad bits, multiplied by 13. And now we have 3 grandchildren, times again. :)

There are times, inevitably, when rather a lot happens at once and we need to call upon Heavenly reserves. This was us in Autumn 2019.

Soon after John and Rebecca had birthed their second son, Solomon, in Spring of that year,

Joseph, our eldest son and his wife, Meghan, announced their first pregnancy. We were thrilled!

All of us, somehow, just 'knew' this would be a baby girl. Meghan ticked off the weeks and honestly, I've never seen a mum to be more excited. So when the first scan date came, we were excited with her.

It didn't go as planned.

A tentative diagnosis of Spina Bifida was made.

I shan't say too much of the journey, because that is Joseph and Meghan's to tell, but the family rallied around and prayed and declared good things over this child, and when further tests brought bad news, we all believed better, while affirming that we would love this precious child however she arrived. I've never witnessed such grace as I saw on Joe and Meg at this time. I was awed by their quiet trust.

A few months later, Meghan had groundbreaking Fetal Surgery in London, to correct the defect on baby's spine. By then we knew for sure she was a girl!

It was a success. After a week in hospital they came home to rest. I went to visit that evening to take them a meal. Meghan looked unwell and was sick. She put it down to the medication she was on.

It wasn't. Meghan was in early labour!

Evelyn was born by emergency C-section that night, at only 26 weeks gestation.

Dean and I saw her just before she was transferred by ambulance to Nottingham.

Meghan was still woozy and reeling from a second major surgery in a week! She would follow the next day. I was much happier knowing mum and baby were back together.

Joseph has always been calm in a crisis. This precious couple, facing what anyone would call a nightmare, did so with such honesty, dignity and faith. They stood on the promises God had given them, and they stood firm.

It was to be a very bumpy ride.

A week later, as I shopped with our older girls for the approaching wedding of our third eldest son, Barnabas, to Isabel, (yes, she became Isabel Bell!), last minute beauty treatments, and a welcome diversion, we received a message from Joe and Meghan in Nottingham.

"Evelyn's bowel had perforated. Please pray. Going to theatre now."

We cried and we prayed. And I wondered, how could this little one take all this? How could she survive? Surely, it's too much. It wasn't. God blessed skilful surgeons and her little body took the beating and recovered.

3 days later, as October neared its close, we packed up the family and travelled to Norfolk for the wedding. It was just beautiful. It was a joyful celebration. Joseph had managed to leave his wife and daughter's side to be at his brother's for just a few hours. We thanked Meghan, while deeply missing her presence, knowing how much she'd looked forward to attending, dreaming of wearing a floaty dress and stroking her bump. It was bittersweet.

But Evelyn was doing well and the wedding all went splendidly!

Hopefully, everything would get easier now.

It didn't.

Days later we learned Evelyn's lungs had taken a hit. Again we rushed to Nottingham. She was poorly, but stable. We left Joe and Meghan with heavy hearts. This was a lot for them to carry.

It was clear though, that they were being ' carried' in loving arms far greater than ours!

Then, a week after the wedding, our eldest Grandson, Ezra (20 months) grew sick. He could not stop vomiting. He was admitted to hospital and our eldest children took turns staying with John and Rebecca, who were also taking turns, coping with their baby boy too.

When I visited later that morning, I expected to see a recovering Ezra, rehydrated and bouncing back. I was alarmed to see he wasn't. There was a lot that didn't feel right at all, but the nurses seemed relaxed so I left to go shopping, making sure they had help and assured I'd be praying.

As I began to pray in the car, in tongues, a different tongue came. It had a warring tone and I went with it. Suddenly, in my mind I saw a demon and an angel wrestling over Ezra's bed. The demon had his hands on the lad and he was dying. I was shocked. As I battled, I saw the angel push off the demon, who once shoved, stepped away and was gone. The angel put his hands on Ezra, who came to life. Then I felt such joy! All would be well!

I shared this with the extended family on our Whatssap and urged that we need to pray, now!

A lumbar puncture was performed later that day and we were told as we went to bed that he had meningitis but as it was caught early, he should recover well. We prayed some more and went to sleep.

At 2am I was shaken awake by Dean. He'd been phoned by John, who was distressed, to say Ezra had just fitted and had been whisked away for a CT scan. He went downstairs to pray and I sat for a moment trying to recall if this was a regular occurence with Meningitis.

Soon after, we heard from them again. The news was devastating. Ezra had a significant bleed in his brain and the doctors could not understand why. We raced to the hospital, barely dressed and shaken. Thankfully, I'd phoned our son, Joshua and his wife Mckenna, who were brewing strong coffee to wake up and they followed shortly after.

We've faced emergencies of all kinds with our own children, but I'd only had to manage my own fears. This was new. Not only were we scared for our grandson, but felt the anguish of his parents, still so young, who almost collapsed as we walked in. They were living through my worst nightmare.

The room where Ezra lay unconscious was filled with doctors, nurses and staff, all talking in hushed voices while the rest of the ward tried to sleep. A nurse was walking baby Solomon up and down, who being unaware of the drama and enjoying the attention of all the nurses, beamed his 'light up the room' smile at us.

John and Rebecca were in shock. We all were. Joshua and Mckenna arrived. Dean and I held Ezra's distraught parents, and Joshua and Mckenna held us all as we wept and shook.

In moments of such overpowering fear, in our heightened awareness of the frailty and powerlessness of our human condition, it is hard to feel 'spiritual'.

We remembered the picture God had given only 12 hours before and we hung on to it for dear life.

A consultant came to discuss what was happening. Ezra needed to be transferred to Queens Hospital in Nottingham. We gasped. The same hospital as Evelyn and her parents were staying. On the one hand, what are the odds of having 2 grandchildren in PICU, but on the positive- they all had each other! There was grace in this.

Ezra needed life saving surgery once there. He'd receive the best care.

The aged doctor wondered at what had happened. There had been no trauma to the child's head, no injury. And he had cared for HUNDREDS of cases of meningitis and never seen a bleed like this. It. could not be explained.

Dean accompanied John while they took Ezra to put him into a coma.

Mckenna and I tried to comfort Rebecca and make her eat and drink something, for her baby still fed from her. It was breaking my heart to see what they were enduring.

As a parent, you want to kiss it all better and make things right again. And sometimes we just can't.

We knew God was holding us all and kissing us. We trusted Him in the darkest hours and held tightly to His outstretched hand and believed.

Ezra was wheeled into an ambulance as we all walked past together to go to our cars. John and Rebecca were to follow the ambulance, with Josh and Mckenna following them, to care for Solomon and help anyway they could. We would have expected to follow too. We wanted to; but there was a problem. I was down to preach at 2 services. It was 6am and the first service was at 9.30.

Dean looked at me as we drove home. I'd had to run to the loo numerous times with a stressed induced 'upset stomach'. I felt so sick. "You can cancel,"he said reassuringly. " I know James would understand."

I agreed he would be, but I just couldn't. It was more than knowing they'd have no preacher for 2 services, or the fear of letting people down. We had walked with our pastors, James and Kelly, through the deaths of their parents not long before. Our church lost its founding pastors to cancer over a 2 year period. In all that heartbreak, James and Kelly had never missed a service. Their hearts were broken, but they kept turning up.

"They set a high benchmark," I said. "Physically, I'm not up to this, but I believe I'm meant to be there, to do this, today."

I was down to speak on Family and had really known God's blessing on the preparation of the message. Above all, I knew He wanted me there.

Dean smiled and stroked my arm affectionately.

Once home, I couldn't eat or even drink and I couldn't stop shaking. The phone kept ringing and the drama was re-lived over and over.

I put on my best dress, praying for God to carry me. I kept thinking of the Hillsong chorus, 'Oceans.'

"You call me out upon the waters,

the great unknown where feet may fail,

and there I find you in the mystery

In Oceans deep my faith will stand.

I will call upon your name

And keep my eyes above the waves

When Oceans rise

My soul will rest in your embrace

For I am yours and you are mine.."

I arrived for the pre-meeting prayer meeting and James and Kelly, already knowing all, gave the sort of hugs that we need in those hours of distress. We prayed. I trusted. I trusted that though my body was weak, He would give me the strength to go on. I'd heard speakers talk of this grace to minister. I'm no travelling speaker. I'm 'just' a mum; but I knew God had given me a word to share.

Our church rose to the moment and surrounded Dean and I with love and passionate prayers were lifted, voices raised over this young family, faith declarations were made and in our spirits, we felt something SHIFT.

As I stood to speak, I felt weak, but strong. I couldn't explain it other than a carrying of grace. I felt enabled. I delivered the message in both services and there was a real blessing on it. I was encouraged to learn some had stayed on for the second service to hear it again.

Here's how I know it wasn't adrenaline that got me through. I've done that, for years, and when you stop, you're whammied. This time, I only felt Heaven's smile and something I'd not felt all night. Peace.

As the meeting was concluding, John texted James, who jumped up and read the message to the meeting. It was good news. A second scan had shown the bleed to be significantly smaller. They were not going to operate. There were cheers and hugs. We were all aware though, that he was far from well yet. I reflected on the picture of the demon and angel. I had felt that shift during the meeting. He WOULD recover.

And he did.

We drove over to Nottingham with James and Kelly later that day, and the PICU nurses looked on quietly as people visited a still unconscious Ezra and prayed over him.

Rebecca's parents made the long trip to stay with them and help for as long as was needed and Dean and I split our visits between our grandson and grand daughter on the top and bottom floors of the same block.

It was a comfort to us that Joseph and Meghan and John and Rebecca, had each other too.

John and Rebecca, pushed through every parent's nightmare.

It seems to me that there are times we are 'carried' and times when we have to 'push'; when our endurance is tested to its limits. John and Rebecca found themselves in "hell' and they just 'kept walking', until they reached the other side. I once heard courage defined as "not the absence of fear, but doing it, afraid."

John and Rebecca faced fear and kept going, eyes on Jesus, and came out the other side.

They walked through fire and they did it with grit and grace.

Day by day, Ezra made astonishing progress. He was discharged 10 days later almost completely recovered. It reached the point where it was felt he would do better in his home environment -and he did.

The day they left the doctors gathered and told his parents that they would be discussing Ezra's case at a high level. They could not explain what caused the bleed, or how he had recovered so well and so quickly.

We knew.

Evelyn overcame every hurdle set before her with almost olympian endurance. She amazed us and still amazes us. She is home, thriving and delighting us daily. God is so good.

Just as there are times when Father calls us aside to rest, there are times when He calls us to "Step up." He calls us Higher, to go beyond what is natural and live above our circumstances, rather than under them.

To know the difference requires the wisdom that comes from the knowing of His voice, and the leading of His hand.