Over the course of the past four years, when I made Qavah's appointments for transfusions back in Roanoke, I would often visualize the future. I would try to imagine the day that I would hear the words, "She's cured." Sometimes the image was so strong in my mind, I would cry for joy. If just imagining it brought me to tears, I would wonder how I would behave the day that the vision became a reality.
I don't have to wonder about that anymore. One morning this past week the doctors were making their rounds. When they came to Qavah's room they shared the morning counts. After hearing the number of white cells, neutrophils, red cells and platelets, I suddenly realized that every one of Qavah's counts were in the normal range. Not because she was transfused, but because her body made all of those cells in her own bone marrow. I turned to the doctor on my left and heard him say, "So it appears Qavah will not need another transfusion."
I was surprised by my lack of emotion. I thought, "This wasn't how I dreamed it!" I took the news and tucked it into my brain to examine later. Then late last night I was tucking Qavah into bed and I noticed how pink her lips are. I asked if she had eaten something red and she told me she hadn't. In a sudden rush of emotion I started to feel the deep gratitude for the healing that has taken place in Qavah. Her lips are pink, her palms are pink, and her hands stay warm, all because her bone marrow is working as it should. I asked Qavah if she was feeling better, to which she replied, "Yes, better than ever and ever!" What started with a vision or dream is now our reality. Praise be to God, Who gave us the vision. It seems to me that taking time to dream is an essential step in the process. Dust off those dreams, and don't let them go. Dreams formed by prayer may be tomorrow's reality.
For still the vision awaits its appointed time; it hastens to the end - it will not lie. If it seems slow, wait for it; it will surely come, it will not delay. Habakkuk 2:3