A Monumental Cough

Posted on February 26, 2010 12:00 AM MST by Tiffany Kinerson

Joseph, my oldest son had a terrible cold that turned into a fever this week. He woke me up in the middle of the night coughing. And the next morning, his cough turned into a gag that made him vomit.

But—if you can imagine this—I rejoiced in it.

Yes, I did! Sounds crazy doesn’t it? Why on earth would I rejoice in a cough? Do I simply thrive on the bodily weakness of others? Do I dutifully accept the role of nursemaid over my little household?

Ha ha! Of course not.

I rejoice because this week’s trash can full of Kleenex stands in monument to a time in my family’s life where God reached a hand out from heaven and touched us.

When Joseph was about 2, he began having serious breathing problems. It wasn’t every day, all the time. It hadn’t been classified as asthma. But every time he picked up any little virus, sniffle or sneeze of any sort, his lungs seized up and he stopped breathing, often until his lips turned blue. By the time he was around 3, we rushed him to the hospital pretty much once every ten days.

If you’ve ever had a perpetually sick kid, maybe you were better at handling the pressure of the situation than we were. But I’ve got to tell you, when you’ve got two stressed parents who care way too much and want to do anything they can to save their child from brain damage, you’ve got a prescription for marital strife on your hands. It was mind-numbing. Heart-wrenching. Horrifying. And tiring.

Point is, it was tough. Every bit of it.

One afternoon, with another military relocation ready to spring on us from the corner of the next month, I flung myself onto the couch. “God, have mercy on us!” (Yes, it was that dramatic.)  How could we deal with a breathing crisis as we waded through packers, movers, an intercontinental car ride? “Lord, hear me, please!” What could happen to him on the road? What if his lips turned blue in the middle of nowhere? What if we were too far from an emergency room and we lost him? “God, I beg You to heal my son!”

Maybe this next part isn’t so strange if you’ve known God for a time, or maybe this is the craziest thing you’ve ever heard in your life. Whatever the case, my story goes like this. That very day, I happened to read James 5:14-15 in my daily Bible reading: “Is any one of you sick? He should call the elders of the church to pray over him and anoint him with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise him up….”

Astonished by this direct answer, my heart leapt with hope. But having been brought up conservatively, I quickly followed that up with a wide-eyed “No way!”

Imagine little nothing me going to my preacher, requesting a conference of our leaders and expecting them to pray over my little boy. The audacity of it! Surely those men had so many other things to do with their life. Surely they would think I was crazy, maybe even curving Scripture to fit the bends of my life. In my fabricated humility, I could feel it coming on: the most horrifying meekness known to man. Groveling weakness.

But then I looked at Joseph. I’d received an answer that very day. How dare I back off simply because of some arrogant threat of embarrassment!

So I packed my pride away and called the pastor of our church.

Thank goodness, he embraced my request with an opened heart. He pulled all the men together that he could and then they got back with me. Together those men listened to the trials we’d gone through. They heard me when I told about the petition for my son, the expedient answer written in The Word of God.

And then they prayed.

With all faith and assurance that God is the Healer, the Deliverer, the Creator of Divine leading, they called out for God to bless my son’s lungs.

As I listened to the words of these powerful men of God, my heart found total surrender in His will for my child. Upon the completion of the prayer, I knew no matter the outcome, God’s will would be done. I had followed His command in this situation, I had run the race He set out for me. I had asked for help from a source outside of our family’s own frantic prayers.

And now whether God healed Joseph completely and immediately, whether He led us to the correct doctors to encourage healing, or whether this ailment—much like the apostle Paul’s “thorn in the flesh”—remained with Joseph forever, I knew God Himself would sanctify and consecrate Joseph’s sickness. He would use our obedience and the prayers of the Saints for His glory. Through our son. One way or another.

Oh I can't wait to tell you the ending!

Even today when I think about it, it makes me still! Paralyzed by awe. Oh, the excitement and joy memorialized each time Joseph is blessed with a mere cold. Just a cough without a rush to any hospital near or far!

Joseph…our son…was healed!! So fully that he didn’t even get sick again…from anything for the next four years.

Astounding! And only by the grace of God. Who lives and reigns in the heavens and on earth.

And this is one of the many reasons why I believe in Him. Ha ha ha! It's laughable, really! Imagine seeing a memorial in a nasty old cough. God has such a great sense of humor!

Now I ask you, what kind of monuments has God built in your life?

Send us a comment or question