It was a bit too early. Little Tripp was snug in his mommy’s womb and not quite ready to meet the world. But the doctors decided it was time for his grand debut.
My niece, Emily, developed preeclampsia in her last weeks of pregnancy. The doctors waited as long as they could, but decided it was best if Tripp were welcomed into the world sooner than later. Emily was placed on magnesium to prevent the preeclampsia convulsions, and induced for pre-term labor. And while Tripp’s birth was God’s poetry in motion, he arrived with a few side effects of the magnesium on his 5 pound 12 ounce body.
Toxic magnesium levels.
Relaxed smooth muscle activity.
Reluctance to eat.
Irregular heart rate.
The nurses swept Tripp away to the neonatal intensive care unit soon after his first cry. While we prayed for him and his mom, Stu, his dad, stayed right there with him—exactly where Emily wanted him to be.
Tripp was hooked up to several monitors and had a feeding tube in his nose. At one point, his heart rate began to drop dangerously low from the 120-160 of a newborn.
Stu held little Tripp’s hand and began to speak. “We love you, Tripp. Daddy’s right here with you. God’s right here with you. I’ll always be with you. I know this is a scary place, but this is the best place for you right now. I’ve got you. You get strong. Don’t give up. I’ve got your hand. You’re going to be okay.”
“Mommy loves you. She can’t come in here right now. She’s got to get well too. But she loves you. Try to block out your surroundings and look at me. People everywhere are praying for you. Keep fighting, little man. You are God’s miracle to us.”
As Stu spoke words of love and encouragement, Tripp’s heart rate began to climb—70…80…90…100…120. In a few minutes the blood coursed through his veins at a quickened pace, pumped by two hearts joined by fingers of love.
I don’t know where your heart is today. Perhaps like little Tripp’s it’s running a little sluggish. I’m not talking about your physical heart, but your spiritual heart, your emotional heart. Sluggish from sadness. Despondent from disappointment. Barely beating because of being beaten by life. Hopeless because life just isn’t turning out the way you hoped it would and you’re out of options.
Here’s what I want you to imagine. See yourself in Tripp. See your heavenly Father in Tripp’s earthly father. God is talking to you. Reaching for your hand.
“I love you, daughter. I’m right here with you,” God’s saying to your heart. “I’ll always be with you. I know this world is a scary place, but this is the best place for you right now. I’ve got you. You get strong. Don’t give up. I’ve got your hand. You’re going to be okay. Try to block out your surroundings and look at Me. People everywhere are praying for you. Keep fighting, little one. You are My miracle.”
Tripp leftthe NICU after seven days. Healthy and strong.
And, friend, you’re going to make it too. Reject the lie if the Enemy tells you anything different.
Last week Tripp turned two-years-old.
“Fear not for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine” (Isaiah 43:1 ESV) – God
What does it mean to you to know that God knows your name and you are His? Leave a comment and I’ll randomly pick one to send a free copy of Trusting God.