Science and Illusion

So three days after Zoe was born we were told that she was going to forget how to breathe and die. We've been living on the razor's edge ever since.

Now, 126 days after receiving that diagnosis, I am starting to grow this idea that I'll be able to 1) identify that moment and 2) prevent it. It's a revisitation of an illusion most moms and dads believe: that they can keep evil, sadness - even dangerous UV rays - from their child, thus giving them a better life.

It's hard not to think it, since right now, if it's stasis, is pretty normal. She's little, yes. And fussy. But her breathing, if anything, is better now, not worse. Her eyes seem brighter now, not dimmer, her gaze more intense. When she hears her mom or dad, she moves her head around to try and find the owner of the voice.

It's hard to reconcile my daily conversation and interaction with Zoe with the fact that we are still living in Zoe's first six months, where the mortality rate is 90%. Or the idea that her body is going to her fail her fatally.

The parental illusion is that all babies grow, and that they learn to cope and smile and laugh, and their immune system and their coordination grow until they become President. Or maybe a Nobel Prize-winning President.

Infused with the illusion is this knowledge of God's might and ability to heal. You have never heard me talk about this on this blog, because it scares me to greatly. Could God change every 18th chromosome in every cell in Zoe's body? Undoubtedly. But will He. Will He? Will He defy science to feed my illusion?

If the past is any evidence, God will continue to defy both. Zoe's doctors and parents will both end up being wrong, somehow. And He will be right. I pray for the wisdom to see His rightness in all of this.