I was 5 hours away, blessedly exempt from the chicken pox quarantine, when my wife called to tell me the doctor thought the baby had, perhaps, a broken bone in her hand. I preached that night and drove home. When we finally got the correct diagnosis, I was furious with the first pediatrician and my anger added to my wife’s anxiety.
Monitoring the spider bite was surreal as we watched our baby that night – what were we watching for I wondered? Then it passed; I did not know how much that episode would take from us just then.
Hindsight tells me I should have been more observant about the stress levels all these things cumulatively were adding. I have never discussed the anonymous calls we were receiving – ominous calls – vague but more frequent when I was out of town.
I am hesitant even now to talk about the spiritual warfare that was being waged in and around us. I would later learn about some of it and some of it I would never fathom or grasp. We turned over some rocks in that ministry that revealed racism, prejudice and hatred that still today sadden me. God granted some victories and some courage; but I did not know at what cost they were coming.