While speaking to a friend on the phone the other day, I made mention of, “my baby girl.”

My friend sounded confused as to who I was referring to. But “my baby girl” knows who she is.

And if I call her peanut, or monkey, or any other pet name I have assigned her, she quickly reminds me what her real name is. “No, I’m your baby girl.”

Although, on certain occasions, she might possess the name ”Cinderella,” or “Princess,” I assure you, it’s only temporary.

Maybe you remember this post not too long ago, or maybe you don’t.   Either way,  several weeks ago my dad fell onto a four by four post, breaking several ribs and puncturing his lung.

Although in a great deal of pain, he was healing nicely, or so we thought.  Then about three weeks ago he was in the tub and tried to get out, but he seemed to have no strength.  He struggled to pull himself up and felt a terrible pain in his abdomen.  He decided to be a hero  at 4:30 AM and drive himself to the hospital, without notifying anyone.   He called me the next day to tell me he was there.

The doctors seemed to have no idea what was wrong with him.  Test after test and no answers.  They did determine that his pancreas and liver seemed to be functioning abnormally, but had no idea why.  Three days later we were waiting with still no answers.  I asked the doctors if it could have anything to do with the fall he took when he broke his ribs.  They said that wasn’t possible.

By day three, he seemed to be doing better and his test results were normalizing.  And then that evening I received a phone call from the hospital.  They informed me that my dad had started bleeding internally and I needed to come to the hospital immediately.  They said it was serious and they didn’t know if he would live.

I was stunned.  Whatever was happening was making no sense at all.  He had just been mowing the lawn on Tuesday and now he was fighting for his life.

When I arrived at his room, they were inserting a central line to transfuse him quickly.  He was somewhat lucid, but was filled with fluid and looked on the edge of death.   I tried to be brave and knew without a doubt that God had the situation in His hands.

His blood pressure was dangerously low and even if they could find the source of the bleeding, they wouldn’t have been able to operate because his body wouldn’t have tolerated a surgery.

As soon as the nurses and doctors inserted the line, they stood back and I laid hands on my dad and prayed.  I asked God to give him peace, to heal up the wound, and bring up his blood pressure to a normal level and to give the doctor’s wisdom to see what was happening.

And that’s exactly what He did.

Slowly my dad’s blood pressure rose and the bleeding stopped.  His blood levels started to rise and over the next couple of days things improved even more.  He did get pneumonia in his right lung and had some abnormal heart rhythms, but it God is slowly taking care of those issues also.

And guess what the problem was…..

His broken ribs punctured his spleen when he tried to get out of the tub.

I hope they now realize nothing is impossible.

I certainly know it.  Nothing at all is impossible with God.  He is ever faithful and present especially in our darkest hours.

As I sat blowing up this enormous beach ball – sprinkler and emptying myself of every last bit of hot air, I looked at Bella, sighed and said, “I don’t know baby girl, I might not finish until next year.”

She patted me on the leg and said as graciously as she could, “You’re doing a great job mommy.  It’s OK, take your time.”

I could only laugh and give her a big kiss for her patience and sincerity.

I wish I was a big girl like her.

you can visit here for the rest…..

I’m so thankful Mother’s Day still comes more than one day a year.