In traditional Chinese Medicine the lungs represent grief, sadness and detachment. This makes sense in so many ways from Tyler’s reactive attachment disorder to his asthma attacks that would occur if my husband and I went out for a night. Babysitters were rare. I remember many middle-of-the-night SOS calls with my dad. He would walk me through the exact steps needed to help Tyler pull through a barking cough that wouldn’t stop and a worsening asthma attack. There were many nights while the other three children slept, that I spent hours with Tyler—just he and I—helping him to breathe.
Bonding.
Breathing.
Breathing in.
Breathing out.
Together.
During the wee hours of those long, dark nights, God was working.
He was working and preparing for the day in the hospital when the doctors could not get Tyler’s asthma under control. He was admitted into PICU—Pediatric ICU where the doctor told me Tyler would be intubated within twenty minutes. I wanted to cry as I stood helplessly by the big hospital bed watching Tyler struggle to take every breath. It broke my heart as his heart rate increased and oxygen levels dropped.
God was there, but I wasn’t even looking for him. I felt so hopeless. There was nothing I could do but wait.
Slowly Tyler turned his head toward me and between breaths asked, “Mommy…(gasp), am I (gasp) going to die?”
How does a mom respond to this piercing question? I did not have time to think of a response because my heart had already decided. In a single breath, a powerful love bubbled up from my core and exploded in my heart.
I grabbed his hand and looked into his big brown, eyes, “Not on my watch, Tyler. Not on my watch.”
Over the next ten minutes Tyler’s oxygen levels rose into the 90s, and his breathing eased. When the doctor came in to talk to me, he was amazed at what just happened. The intubation was cancelled.
Since that day in the hospital, Tyler has never again had to be hospitalized or even visit the emergency room for asthma. He did have asthma attacks after that, but we could handle them at home with the tools we had, and they occurred less and less.
Tyler’s heart received the love and began to release the grief, sadness and detachment. His heart was free and could attach and heal. He could breathe.
My heart was filled to overflowing with love, so it could attach and heal as well.
On that day, God did a double miracle.
I will never cease to be amazed by how God healed our hearts—the queen bee—with love.