A couple of nights ago something triggered Alex's asthma. It doesn't happen very often, but when it does, it can be a little scary especially since it's always on a weekend or holiday and in the middle of the night.
There I sat at 1:30 am talking to him about how he's feeling, making sure he's breathing okay, trying to find out what will make him more comfortable so he can sleep. I had given him cough medicine, he had used his inhaler, but still sleep wouldn't come. He had seemed to be asleep earlier, but he said he had been dreaming restless dreams and just felt so tired. I got him a glass of ice water and sat on the bed across from him, head in my hands, feeling exhausted and helpless. I really didn't know what else I could do for him. Alex is five feet, ten inches tall now, so holding and rocking him was not an option.
As as I sat there trying to think in the midst of his constant coughing, I told him that if he was sure he was okay then I would pray for him and I was going to go lay down. So I prayed a simple prayer that went something like this: Father, We know the fact that Alex is miserable has not escaped your notice and we know that you can reach down and bring complete healing to his body. If that's not your plan, then please, could you just give him some relief so he can rest and his body can heal? Let him know your presence in a real way. We ask that you would do this simply because of your great mercy for us.
I said goodnight and went to bed. Of course, I was wide awake, but in just a few minutes I realized that Alex wasn't coughing anymore. I went in and stood in the quiet of his room and watched him sleep, thankful for the gentle reminder that the God of the universe does see and does care about the things that tug at my heart, like a sick child who can't rest.