Thursday, June 12, 2014

Made to Move

Kim stood over the hospital bed and massaged a stiff, broken body while the 2-year old trapped inside of it wept from his confines.

She kept rubbing while she stood over that broken baby body and told the story of her own youngest daughter’s miraculous recovery and adoption. Kim massaged that testimony into the baby who finally fell asleep under the hands that have held miracles before.

Moments later, a father walks in. Kim’s massaging hands immediately reach out to greet this smiling man who defies his culture to sit at the bedside of his vulnerable son. He’s proud to be his father.

I have to ask, “Do you have dreams for your son?”
“YES!” He says, “Big, big dreams. Too many dreams. I have some dreams if he recovers and can have a normal childhood and even dreams if he cannot and he stays like this.”

The father shares that, not long ago, his son was a normal, walking, talking 2-year old boy. One day, he suddenly seized and froze. His body curls and tightens, and he’s undergone procedures on his brain. The problem is unclear as to what is plaguing this little body, but his father dreams dreams for him no matter what his body becomes.

We tell him we’ve prayed. The father beams. He shouts the name of Jesus right there over that broken baby body, and we talk about how the Healer draws close when His hands and feet come together. So we draw close around that bed one more time, join our hands together, and we pray for baby boy.

As an afterthought, I asked the father his son’s name. It’s Bayanda. I asked what it means, and he said, “It means the family is growing larger and larger.”

“YES.” I said with explosive joy. “And Bayanda was made to move.”

In that hospital moment, Kim’s hands were made to move a soothing peacefulness over Bayanda’s body. And our hands were meant to join together and call Heaven down in that fluorescent room. Bayanda was made to move.

The Family was made to move. To grow larger and larger.

It happens with a whispered prayer and a gentle rub.
It happens with an enthusiastic reach for a family member or for a total stranger.
It happens when a dream is shared, when the Name is spoken, and when hands come together and wrap around the broken bodies, hearts and stories in this world – all over the world.

Thank you Kim for holding miracles and calling them family.
Thank you for massaging them in with your story, a deposit for the next miracles.
Thank you Citymark Church for coming again and again.
The Family is growing larger and larger. And it was made to move. 

No comments:

Post a Comment