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We did sleep well that night. Prayer number one was answered. The next day we were not allowed to see Lizzie until after her testing, so it was day of waiting and praying and making phone calls. Finally, we were able to see her.

As the nurse was filling us in on the tests and how Lizzie responded, she said to Stacy, “I got your baby to take a pacifier.” (Lizzie had refused one since birth.) When Stacy asked how she was able to do that, the nurse responded, “I dipped it in sugar water.” We chuckled that we might take a pacifier dipped in sugar water. Then the nurse used these very words: “It is proven that sucking on a pacifier comforts infants during times of stress.” God allowed her to use my word from a prayer to encourage me. From that point on I never doubted the sovereignty of my Lord.

The days turned to weeks and the weeks to months, and still we had no diagnosis. The doctors were doing all they could to find out what was wrong with LizBeth.

In the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit), you meet several thousand people. Well, not really, but it sure feels that way. Doctors, nurses, therapists, therapist assistants, lab technicians, and other patients are among those you spend your time with. Eventually, Stacy and I were able to reach out to other families and share our faith with those in the medical profession. I know it was only through the power of the Holy Spirit.

I will tell you a lost person can survive the NICU. A lost person can even survive well, but a Christian is the only one who can live the life in the NICU. There is no one on this earth, not your spouse, not your mom, not one single person that can comfort you during the grief and fear you feel when your baby almost dies right in front of you. It is an absolutely overwhelming feeling of helplessness. There is nothing I can do. There’s nothing the doctors can do.