Red Ridding wagon

Red Ridding wagon

I was one two yrs old and on the edge of entering eternity. I had a 104 degree fever, my spine was swollen and my brain was losing the ability to communicate to my organs. I had full blown menigittis. There was little hope. The prognosis was, if I lived through the night, I would not be able to talk, hear and have severe learning difficultiy. My parents did what any normal parents would do, went to the chapel and prayed. They cried out in anger. They cried out in despair. They cried out for answers. Several nights passed, I was in ICU dancing the line between consinseness of life and the reality death. Somewhere among the desperation, somewhere in the anger, somewhere in the tears, for a reason I still don't understand, my body began to function normally. In a matter of hours I was speaking, walking and laughing.

Why did I get better, when so many with this diesease often last merely days? Why does God intervene sometimes but not always?

I realize that I am asking, "Why?" And I have always heard [Christian's] aren't allowed to ask this question [maybe because its a dangerous question, it may lead to other questions, first we start asking questions like "Why" then me might began to rethink everything] and if you do then you are spiritual immature. Call me what you want, but today I am asking "Why?"

My first time out of the ICU, after my body began to work, I was pulled in a red wagon by my father though the Hospital. So my dad is in the hospital and I outside his room for what ever reason, there is a red wagon waiting to used. Tonight, my soul is dry, and my heart wants to pull my dad through the hospital, body restored.

God give me a child like faith, make me immature and let me ask the tough questions that I may never know the answer to.... tonight give us the ride in the red wagon.