Austyn woke this morning with a fever. Her body hot. Her heart beats fast.

She looks at me through wet eyelashes, her blue eyes swollen and sad. Her hands are freezing cold and this fever seems to be caught up… all near her heart and her head.

This cough of hers hasn’t gone away. It will. I believe it. I know it. But, the reality of it stings and sears in the feverish wheezing of right now.

The doctors say asthma and allergies, but the fever is new and …. Now…. they don’t know. “An infection? Walking pneumonia? On top of the asthma? Or aside?” They wonder aloud. So, I ask more questions. I challenge and jockey for solid information. But, in the end, this is always a guessing game. I’ve had too much experience with medical trial and error. I drive to the pharmacy and on the way, I call and ask of essential oil solutions we might have missed.

I pull into the Target parking lot and glance in the rearview mirror at her sweet little face. She says “Momma” thick and slurred and her blonde hair sticks to her forehead. My heart swells and bursts. A prayer rises and speaks strong. It echoes in my very soul. I pray it and I will it. It becomes me, in that moment. “My sweet, dear child…. Be well.” I want so very much for her to be well.

Once home, she eats as much as she can handle and we’ve started our new “hopeful helps” of peppermint oil and antibiotics. I lay her sweet soft self down for a nap and creep down the stairs.

Now, I sit listening to the monitor as she naps in fits and starts. Bright sunlight streams in the window where we are staying. It’s a glorious home in the mountains of our very best friends’ and they so generously share. Friends are just one gift nestled among so many others that God has blessed me with. The other gifts start their march and I’m filled with thankfulness. Hope floats in on remembered graces and rays of sunshine. I hear Austyn cough and squirm. Then, her blankets quiet and that sliver of hope begins to form a thought…

I pick up the Bible…. and turn thin pages. And, there it is. I place my finger next to it. I drink it in so that the hope-thought grows.

Be strong. Take courage. Don’t be intimidated. Don’t give it a second thought because God, your God, is striding ahead of you. He’s right there with you. He won’t let you down; He won’t leave you. Deuteronomy 31:6

The light changes and I shift my gaze. Evergreen trees and new budding greens lay just outside as grey clouds pass across the sun. I’m back in Seattle and those clouds have always seemed like a worn blanket that used to make me feel cozy and right at home. But, now, after having been through much, I know the truth. That any city, any home can feel just right when I rest in Him.

Be strong.

Take courage.

He won’t let you down. Does this mean Austyn will get better immediately? Not necessarily. But, it does mean He won’t let me go down. He will fight for me. He will fight for my daughter. Just as I am doing all that I can, which isn’t enough. He will do all He can. And, Jesus IS always enough. And I can place it ALL; her, this, me, us… in His strong and capable hands.

When my precious daughter is sick or hurting, my very being centers around a prayer that forms without thought… I live and breathe and become: “My child… Be well.” And, if these are my thoughts about my sweet little girl… Then, these and more are surely God’s intentions toward me and my beloved (and YOU). “My child. Be well.”

If the God of the Universe is on our side and only wants what is best in the end, will He not surely deliver? I am certain that He will. And because He wills it: We. Will. Be. Well.

She should wake up soon. Maybe her fever will have vanished during her nap. Maybe the prayers will have helped. Either way, I can be certain of one thing: He is willing her, and me, and all of us… well. His eye is ever on us. His heart is always with us.

So, you there, you too…. Will you see that He wills you well? Be strong, you. Take courage. “Be well, my beloved child.” Even on the tough days, the ones full of dark and light, heavy and heaping, heaving and pulling…. Look to the light. Look to the hope. And, believe you will be well because of Him.

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Not sure you’ll get well? Not sure how to find hope, peace… How to find Him? Have questions for me? Comment below or email me at Alyssa (dot) magnotti (at) gmail (dot) com.