It was the middle of the night. I couldn't sleep. I knew our four-year-old Micah's fever was really high. I moved him to the couch and planned to do ironing and listen to sermonaudio.com. But while I was checking him, he woke up. His fever registered at over 102F. Here's a transcript of our dialogue:
"Micah, what's the worst thing that could happen to you?"
"I guess I could die."
"Would that be really awful?"
"Well, people think it would be scary, but it's not scary really because then I'd go to heaven and see Jesus... and then you and Daddy would have to bury me in the back yard, or maybe in the front yard."
"Micah, what would you want people to remember about you?"
"Well, I would just want them to know Jesus. But really I just want to be a missionary like you and Daddy are going to be."
"Well, let's pray that the Lord would take away your fever so you can be a missionary."
We prayed and then watched as Micah's fever dropped to 101 and then continued to progress downward toward normal. When he came in about 2 a.m. and asked for "some toast, with peanut butter and jelly, please," I knew he was on the mend. By the next morning, Micah was as good as new, and we were both the better for how the Lord had worked in our hearts.