My husband's company softball team was in the middle of a practice game. Bases were loaded, and they had run out of batters. They asked if I would hit for them. A few other spouses on the sidelines volunteered to watch our daughter, Michelle, who was eighteen months old at the time. I agreed it would be fun, so I grabbed a bat.
As I hit the ball, I saw Michelle run onto the field and stop dead in her tracks. At that same moment, the ball I had just hit whacked her between the eyes, knocking her flat on her back.
Everyone ran toward her, including me. Michelle was obviously stunned; everyone was very excited, and people were hanging over her. Michelle responded to the excitement and began to scream. I assured everyone that I would and could take care of her. In our family, we're used to relying on prayer for healing. So as I was carrying Michelle to the car, I was trying to remember some comforting, healing thought to share with her. The problem was, I was drawing a complete blank. I told God I knew I could trust Him to give me the understanding I needed. So what was He going to tell me?
