Memorial Stone in Words: A Piece of Plastic

Memorial Stones in Words in an opportunity to share a time when God made himself apparent to you. A story you don't want to forget. Something you want to share with others. I'd love it if you had a story to share. If you post one on your blog, say that in the comment. If you don't have a blog, but you'd like to email me your story to post, please do so! Check out the original post for a more full explanation

The Boy started crying after he had been asleep for awhile. He was about eight months old. I went to comfort him. No doin'. More screaming. I rocked. Screaming. I changed his diaper and searched his body for some kind of bite or injury or something. I could find nothing. Still screaming. I tried to nurse him. He would start and then pull away crying. I finally sat down on the floor of the bathroom and cried right along with him, then I prayed.

"Lord, I can't find anything wrong with him. I don't know what's wrong. This is very out of character for him. Please help me. Or comfort him."

I tried nursing again. Then, I acted upon something that hadn't even formed a full thought in my head. I put my finger in his mouth and searched. There, stuck to the roof of his mouth was a tiny yellow floppy piece of plastic the size of a nickel.

It was the plastic filter from my nursing pump. I hadn't even known that it came off of the pump until I found it there in his mouth. I took a deep breath. He stopped crying instantly and started nursing. I started crying as the full realization hit me.

I looked at that piece of plastic in the palm of my hand. It was the perfect diameter of his trachea. He could have stopped breathing in his sleep and I never would have known. Instead, it was suction cupped to the roof of his mouth and God moved my fingers to find it.

I prayed again a prayer of thanks. My precious baby had been playing with the pump parts earlier that evening and I didn't think twice about it because I didn't know that there were actually any small pieces. I wouldn't make that same mistake again.

But for that moment... I praised my loving God who kept that piece of plastic in an annoying place instead of dangerous place.

I'd never been so happy to have an aggravated baby.
I'd never been so happy to have a God who moves. Even fingers.


Thank you to Texas Heather for reminding me to post this! Oops! Twelve days late is better than never, right? ;-)

I'd love to read a Memorial Stone from your life!