SUFFERING, PRAYERS, AND MIRACLES
A Family Discovers God's Healing Love

Jana Alderfer

On one of the coldest days of winter in 2005, my two sons, my sister, and I returned home from a morning of errands. My son Sam, then almost three, asked if he could go on a quick sled ride with his aunt before going inside for his nap. I thought nothing of it being so cold outside and agreed that one ride would be okay.

Moments later, we found ourselves scrambling to get Sam inside and call 911. At the bottom of the small hill in our yard, Sam sat on the sled, unresponsive and stiff. It was clear that something was very wrong. We raced inside to get out of the cold—me holding my youngest son, then 10 months old, and my sister cradling Sam.

The ambulances arrived, and I sat amid the medics clapping and yelling for Sam to "Wake up!" I called my husband to meet us at the hospital. At that moment everything was so surreal. I wondered if this was really happening.

It was happening, and I prayed like I have never prayed before. Silently, I cried out to God to watch over my little boy while the medics called for the Medevac helicopter, because minutes later he was still not responding.

After many tests at the hospital—CAT scans, blood tests, EEGs, and more—we were told Sam had experienced a seizure, but no medical reason was evident, nor did he have any pre-existing condition. He had a 50-50 chance of having another seizure. Sam was discharged the following day, December 14.

On December 15, Sam had another seizure. I found myself in an ambulance again pleading with God to protect my son. The hospital observed him, then discharged us only for us to come back yet again the following morning, December 16, because of a third seizure.

Despite being put on anti-seizure medication, we still were not given any reason as to why this might be happening to him. Over the next few weeks and months, we found ourselves in and out of hospitals, seeing specialists, working with one medication after the other (Sam was on eight different medicines!), and becoming physically, emotionally, and mentally drained.

My husband and I constantly questioned, "Why Sam?" We offered to trade places with him if God would only let us. Why was this happening? Why weren’t we seeing any progress? Why couldn’t anybody give us answers? Why should children have to suffer? The list goes on.

We did everything we could for Sam. We asked our church, our Sunday school class, and everyone we knew to pray intensely for him. They did, constantly. Our friends, family, and church put their prayers into action by providing meals, child care, rides, and more that helped sustain a healing community around us.

We chose to combine complementary (alternative) medicine with allopathic (modern) medicine, even though we didn’t have a full understanding how these therapies worked. We felt the need to be faithful to God’s leading even if it meant taking Sam to appointments a couple times a week.

Amid the initial chaos and adrenaline back on those December days, I felt God. Weeks later, among all the new medicines we were given to try, each one causing its own set of problems (loss of appetite, hallucinations, an eight-day hospital stay for pancreatitis), I no longer felt God’s presence. It seemed as if God had disappeared and we were alone despite the outpouring of love we were receiving from friends and family who cared for us then.

Both my husband and I struggled to find answers. Sometimes in our struggle we were able to cling to each other for support, but sometimes we each felt alone.

Our faith was becoming worn out through the days, weeks, and months. It was incredibly difficult to hold on to our belief that God loves unconditionally when our child was suffering. Our wandering minds began to wonder if God had really forsaken us, yet we were constantly reminded that God’s ways are not always our ways. Even when we couldn’t feel it, we were shown time and time again God’s unconditional love and presence.

The days were long during this time, and I found myself craving something sacred even though I had pushed God away. I picked up a few self-help books on random spiritual topics and constantly sought spiritual advice from a few close friends. One of the cards we received during this time had this saying on the front: "In the quiet moments when everything else falls away, we see Jesus most clearly and realize that He is nearer than we ever knew."

I have often pondered this. I don’t know at what point it happened, but one day during this time of solitude, I discovered God again. Even though I still felt somewhat lost and Sam was still having seizures, I knew he would eventually be all right, even if he wasn’t healed. Something resonated within me as a mother, telling me that we would make it through this. I began to see light through the darkness.

It occurred to me that I was being given a chance to learn something remarkable. I had a choice. I could spend my time and energy living in the "Why us?" scenario. Or I could accept what was happening and put my energy into nurturing my family the best way I knew. I just had to open myself to receive the gifts in front of me. What possibilities and blessings could they offer me?

I began to look at things a bit differently and was grateful things were not worse. As I looked at the other children we encountered in the hospital, I started to really appreciate my family and the life I have. I accepted the reality of my life as it was. I remember thinking, This is the life we have been given, treasure it. I started being completely present and learned how to live in the "what now" and "how" rather than the "why." And I began to be truly grateful for each piece of our lives, no matter how small.

Early that spring, Sam was supposed to go on a special diet to help with his seizures. Our doctors, as well as us, thought this diet would heal Sam. This would be our miracle.

It turned out that the diet was scheduled three different times and all three times something happened to postpone the diet. The first time, Sam got pancreatitis just a few days before we were to start it. The second time, his seizure activity dramatically decreased. The third time my grandfather, whom I was very close to, died on the day Sam was to be admitted. Clearly, God was trying to tell us something. We just needed to listen.

On a Friday in mid-May, after five months of seizures, Sam’s seizure activity began to change. After having complementary therapy one day, he went from around 15 seizures a day down to just one or two. We couldn’t believe our eyes; surely we were missing some! But were we?

By the following week, all of his seizures and symptoms disappeared. We, along with everyone we knew, prayed for the miracle of healing and believe God answered this prayer. We were overwhelmed and began to overflow with hope.

As we approach the second anniversary of Sam’s first seizure, he remains seizure-free. There is a small part of me that still wonders why this happened, but the bigger part of me lives in the what and the how and trusts God’s unconditional love.

I found a small framed saying during those days of darkness, which continues to hang in our hallway: "Look for the small miracles and you’ll find they’re everywhere." I cling to this adage even now, because I believe that even in our suffering and struggles, we can come to know God in a deeper way if we trust in him. I am not saying it’s easy. But in hindsight, I can see those small miracles that proved God was still there, even when we doubted.

Looking back, along the way there there were many signs of God’s warm grace extended through people of faith. Sam had people who loved him, visited him, and with whom he has relationships that will sustain him throughout life. We were given meals, cards, babysitting, visits, and transportation. We were led to a doctor and complementary practitioner who really cared about Sam and about us. And I learned to slow down enough to have the time to really play with my two sons.

A special blessing during this time was meeting and connecting with other families who had special needs children and/or children with seizure disorders. I connected with one family in particular who also have a young son with a seizure disorder. They have been faithful to God and have also tried various treatments, but their outcome is different—their son continues to struggle with seizures after three years.

During our phone conversation one day, that mother was questioning why God chooses to heal some children and not others. For that, I have no answer. I too struggle with this. I don’t know why my son was healed and hers was not. It is heart-wrenching to have a conversation with someone still on the other side while knowing that you are no longer there.

This is the hard part now and the part that still affects us, even though our son has been healed. It is the part that helps us remember what we went through and remain grateful for his healing. It is the part that helps us empathize and connect with others who are suffering.

So it is with gratitude that I can say this: As much as I hated what we went through, I cannow see the gifts God was providing us with all along. Ultimately, it was not about whether or not Sam was healed. It was about finding God amid chaos and waiting in hope.

—Jana Alderfer, Harleysville, Pennsylvania,is a self-employed mother of two children and member of Salford Mennonite Church. She hopes someday to use this experience with Sam to help others.