inside a children's hospital at midnight.

There's a constant whirring - air flowing from the vents in the ceiling. A beeping down the hall, followed by running foot steps in the corridor. The baby in the room next door alternates between sleeping and screaming - the latter begging prayers from anyone who hears. The clock on the wall ticks away the seconds. And I am sitting here, grateful that for us, it is a countdown of 9 hours before we head home and resume life as usual. 

There's something about the flashing lights, hushed tones, and medicinal smells of a hospital that can induce discouragement and fear. When it's midnight in a children's hospital, those two emotions dance dangerously close - and seem inevitable. 

But instead of giving way to despair, I pace and pray. As guilt creeps up, whispering how we're the lucky ones --- I silence it with prayers. Only 9 hours now. So many among us this night do not have the comfort of that knowledge --- the reassurance of only waiting 9 more hours. Others would give anything to stretch that 9 hours into 9 days, or weeks, or months - knowing when they leave this place, their child will have gone to be with Jesus.

Oh but there's Jesus. And so I pace and pray. Tonight, I am given the honor of interceding on behalf of our son, and every other child in this place. Tonight, I am given the privilege of coming before the Father for the hearts and souls of all the mothers and fathers sitting bedside watch this night. Tonight, at midnight, in a children's hospital, I am saying no to discouragement and fear, and giving way to the Spirit that breathes compassion, life, and joy. 

To those sitting in a children's hospital at midnight - you are not alone. You, and your precious child, are deeply loved by a Father who has not forgotten or abandoned you. I am sorry. I am sorry you are here with all the sights, sounds, and smells of this place - instead of safely tucked away in your beds at home. I am sorry for the pain, the cries, the unknowns. I am sorry your heart aches to comfort your child in ways beyond your control. 

To those sitting in a children's hospital at midnight - I am lifting you, and your precious child, up in prayer. I am asking God to shower His compassion and mercy and goodness on you even in this moment. I am pleading for grace and healing and peace. 

​If you have a specific prayer request, please comment below - I'd be honored to pray specifically for you or a loved one! If you have a testimony of how God showed His faithfulness through your child's hospitalization, we would love to hear it!