We sat in the hospital room holding the hand of our nine-year-old son.
He was practically lifeless. A tube protruded from his neck as ECMO life support took and returned blood from his body.
Our precious Malachi had somehow contracted Shiga toxin-producing E. coli. Antibiotics would worsen the toxins, so doctors made the risky decision to withhold them. His kidneys failed anyway. He went into septic shock, was intubated, placed on dialysis, and later required surgery to drain fluid from his abdomen and heart. When his heart function dropped to 35 percent, he was placed on ECMO. For two weeks, each day felt like a downward spiral.
We couldn’t believe this was happening. Jodie’s mind replayed the last image of him healthy—walking around our house before a quick grocery trip. She squeezed his hand to reassure him we were there. He squeezed back. He begged for water by mouthing words.
At one point, he asked me (Josh) if he was going to die. Every part of me wanted to promise the outcome I hoped for, but faith required something else. Acknowledging that God’s will stands above my own, I replied simply, “God will take care of you.”
We played Scripture songs, doing all we could to remind him he was loved, even though—like him—we had no control.
This helplessness was not new. Two years earlier, we were told our oldest son, Micah, had advanced keratoglobus, a rare, progressive corneal disease. As we waited to see specialists, my mind spiraled with questions. Sitting beside Malachi, I felt the same fear—only magnified.
I remember thinking, Okay God, you have my attention. I searched for meaning, even wondering if this was happening because we were missionaries. Eventually, I realized my thinking was wrong. We live in a sin-cursed world. Being a Christian does not exempt us from suffering. I stopped asking why and focused instead on the One who was in control.
I prayed the simplest prayer I could form: “God, please help him.” As Robert Morgan writes, “We must trust God with the impossible and leave room for him to work.” I tried to picture myself holding up my son to Jesus as if to say, “Here, Lord—he is yours.” As hard as it was to release control, I knew that his arms were the safest place for Malachi. I also knew that God’s people across the world were lifting us up in prayer. We felt it every hour of the day.
As Morgan says, “The same God who led you in will lead you out.” God did lead us, and he healed Malachi. Months later, his lead doctor told us that, on a clinical basis, no doctor believed he would survive.
Yet our faith does not rest in this outcome but in the character of God. God’s healing is always according to his will and is not promised in the temporary but the eternal. Whether through healing or suffering, God remains worthy of our trust and faithfulness.
Because he has been faithful to us, we can remain faithful to the call he has placed on our lives. We rest our future in the promise: “Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand” (Isaiah 41:10).
