Teena’s daughter had her second child: Dalton. As far as they knew, Dalton was healthy. Some time around 16 or 17 weeks they realized that something was wrong.
He wasn’t processing food. He wasn’t growing. At nearly five months he was still only 9 pounds, only slightly above his birth weight. You could see his ribs. He was starving to death and the doctors could not figure it out.
Teena asked me to pray for the baby and mother. They had just checked in at Vanderbilt
Children’s Hospital. The mother did not attend our church, but I had met her before.
I entered the room and saw the anxious mother holding her frighteningly skinny baby. They had not seen a doctor yet. I asked if I could pray. She said, “Yes.”
I placed my hand on Dalton’s head and asked God to heal him. I don’t know exactly why I said it this way, but it is what came out, “Lord, heal Dalton by the power of your Spirit. May the doctors never know what the illness had been, but let it be gone when they examine him.” I left the mother wiping her eyes. It was a Friday.
On Sunday Teena came up to me with a huge tearful smile. The doctors couldn’t find
anything wrong. They started feeding him and his body was receiving it and processing it properly. He gained two pounds that weekend! Within a month he gained 6 pounds!
The mother believes that a miracle occurred. Perhaps there is a medical explanation, but
none has been found. I am not suggesting that faith and scientific knowledge are at odds. I believe God is involved in both. God lives in both the seen and unseen world.
Here are the facts. Today, Dalton has more than his share of baby fat. His mother believes that God can do anything and will teach this to her children. His grandmother now prays with great faith.
If I were a doctor, I would practice medicine. I’m a believer, so I practice prayer.
prayer encounters 
November 1, 2011 at 4:01 am
34 years ago, your daddy prayed for my baby who was born premature and in intensive care for two weeks. This beautiful post brought back that memory. Blessings to you and your family, Paul. The Holy Spirit is certainly working through you in a wonderful way.
November 1, 2011 at 4:30 am
There may not be a more anxious place than a Neonatal ICU. I served as a chaplain in one for a summer. Some stories don’t end well, but I remember a baby that was born at 25 weeks. The mother came every day. I baptized the child through an incubator. I remember the day, 15 weeks later, that they took baby Angel home. It was the first day that I actually got to hold him. The mother and father were so happy. I better write this one up. Funny what you can remember when stories are shared.