Day Thirty Nine – The Father’s song.

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It was Good Friday morning many years ago now, and I was the very young and inexperienced mother of a beautiful baby girl who was the best thing since sliced bread, as they say.  The alarm hadn’t yet gone off in the bedroom where my husband and I lay, but in the nursery our seven months old was already wide awake and calling for attention. Neither of us were rushing in to see her, this was Good Friday after all, time for another cuddle before we lifted her.

After a while i went to get her.  She was still very tired so I brought her in bed with her parents for another short nap.  Very soon she and my husband David were fast asleep but I was awake now so decided to get up quietly and go downstairs.  I had a phone call to make to find out what time the Good Friday Service was; as it wasn’t at our church,  Good Friday was always an inter- church service. As I put the telephone receiver down in the semi darkened lounge area of our two up two down terraced house, I turned to open the curtains.  Suddenly there was a bang in the room above me.  I stood and listened, after a short period of silence my baby started to cry in distress.

I leapt up the stairs to find my husband coming down the stairs holding her, she had a big red mark on her head.  How could he let this happen? What was he doing?  Strangely enough he was asking similar questions… Where was I?  Why did I get up and not say?   Our daughter was crying bitterly as I quickly took her from her father to comfort her.  She very quickly calmed down as I paced the kitchen floor with her and her father made her breakfast.  When she appeared calm I put her in her high chair and we started to give her breakfast, when suddenly she started shaking.  We were powerless to do anything to stop this.  It didn’t last for long, although at the time it seemed to go on forever.  Suddenly she was unconscious.

I tried to revive her by blowing in her face, as my husband phoned for an ambulance.  Baby Amy was all floppy and not responsive.  I did not know what to do.  Just held her and jiggled her up and down lightly, hoping she would come round.  At least she was still breathing, that gave me great comfort.  My husband and I passed her between the two of us until the noise of the siren outside was clearly announcing the arrival of the emergency services to our little street.   They came in and took her from us as they asked us to tell them exactly what had happened in the last hour.

As our beautiful daughter was so young they acted swiftly and said they would take her to hospital immediately.  I went in the ambulance with her and her father followed in the car.   A seven month old baby seems so tiny in an ambulance, but as the paramedics ran their usual tests Amy regained consciousness. If not rather perplexed to find herself in this strange moving place.   24 hours in the local hospital, diagnosis concussion and convulsion as a result of the head injury!

I think I learned more that Good Friday than any other Good Friday in my whole life.  As parents we could not put into words the love we had for our daughter. To see her suffering, to feel the helplessness, and also the responsible for her injury, well, it’s the kind of experience that makes one feel sick even to remember that dreadful morning.

But God so loved the World that He gave His Only begotten Son…. what more can I say.

My Prayer:

Thank You Father, to watch your only Son suffer and die must have been heartbreaking for you. I don’t know how you did it Lord.

Jesus – during this Lenten season – remind me again that you understand our pain, our helplessness, our agony because you knew these things first hand.

Lord hear us – Lord graciously hear us!

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