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My Miracle Baby - Cancer Be Gone!
By Claire Jones
December 1, 2003

Child & Mother Picture

On October 18, 2003, I gave birth to my first child, Jackson Alexander Jones. He was perfect. All ten little toes and fingers, Daddy's eyes, Mommy's mouth and nose.

However, one of the happiest days of our lives quickly turned into one of the most horrible when my husband discovered our perfect little baby boy had some sort of growth on his upper left thigh. For the four days and nights I was at the hospital every pediatrician and doctor in the labor and delivery ward came to look at his leg, trying to figure out what it was. No one knew.

The day we were discharged we headed straight to an expert dermatologist. She took a sample of the growth on Jackson's thigh and sent it off to be examined by a pathologist, who would determine if this was a tumor or just some sort of cyst that needed to be removed. The waiting began. We were told it would take two weeks to hear back on the biopsy results.

When I received a call from the dermatologist a day later, I knew in my heart it was bad news. It was definitely a tumor. Now all we needed to know was if it was cancerous or not.

I got off the phone and started crying. My husband Michael immediately knew the news was bad. I told him what the doctor said and told him to call our pastor--our baby needed to be prayed for. While he talked to our pastor, I packed up the baby. Then we went to church to have Jackson anointed and prayed for.

On Monday of the next week we were sent to Children's Hospital in St. Louis to have a plastic surgeon look at the tumor and tell us what needed to be done to remove it. First though, we needed to know if it was cancerous. We went home expecting to hear the results from this surgeon in the morning.

Tuesday evening we got the call. My husband answered while I sat on the couch with Jackson in my arms. I had been in that same spot pretty much all day, crying off and on while praying for our little boy. When I heard Michael ask if it could be spreading anywhere in his body, my head started spinning. It was cancer! At that moment I felt dead inside.

Why? How? I kept asking God why this was happening to us. Why my little boy? I wanted that cancer taken off my little baby and put in my body. I asked God over and over again, "Please, give the cancer to me, God. I'll take it. Anything is better than this. I can't handle it."

Michael hung up and immediately started calling everyone, asking them to start praying. Most everyone we knew had already been praying and knew what had been going on, but this was it--we needed prayer now. After all the calls had been made, he asked if I wanted to go to prayer at church that night. Yes! I needed God so badly right then. We all did.

We arrived at the church that night and went straight to the front pew and fell to our knees. It was like falling on the Rock. God was there so strong.

We sobbed and cried while our church family surrounded us and prayed and for us. It was such a relief to know we weren't the only ones touched by this. It was like our whole church was in prayer over Jackson. People had been sending us encouraging emails and phone calls; they were fasting and interceding. God was waking people up in the middle of the night to pray for Jackson.

That week is now a blur. It was a week of endless testing, and we felt as if we were being tested as well. It was extremely difficult just to leave it to God and not worry. I was an emotional basket case; my husband had to be strong for both of us. It's so easy to believe God for someone else's healing, or blessing, but for yourself--that's where real faith is tested.

Then I almost didn't take the baby to church that night for Bible study (on November 12, 2003). He had been having medical tests all day and was exhausted and upset, but we just wanted him prayed for as much as possible. So far, in two weeks, he had been prayed for and anointed at every service we had attended, and we didn't want to miss out on a single opportunity for him to be touched by God. That night was amazing. There was such a move of God! I remember singing, "Still I will trust You, still I will follow." Michael and I both lost it. We were just worshipping God and taking all of our trust and faith and giving it to him. After that song, there was tongues and interpretation. The interpretation said:

I have opened up the door of My presence to you that is very secret,
very precious. It is a door that, if you will pass through, you will find
that peace that passes all understanding. You will find the comfort
that you need right now. I'm an ever-present help in a time of trouble.
I can handle that situation. I can handle that difficulty if you'll just
allow Me. But right now church, I want you to walk through that
door, into that secret place where I can give you the ointment,
where I can give you the healing and the salve that you need
for your wounds and your healing, saith the Lord."

After that service I was no longer a wreck. From time to time I was still worried, but whenever the devil tried to pull the mind games that he had been playing for those two weeks, I would just think on that night's interpretation. It was God's promise to me--Basically, 'Don't worry. Peace. I have everything under control.' So when we were told the cancer might have spread to Jackson's lymph nodes, I had to think again, "Trust God. He has everything under control."

The doctor told us they were going to have the test results hand-couriered over the next morning to Children's Hospital. He said he didn't believe there would be a change in the diagnosis, but they wanted to have their specialist take a look at it before they started with any type of procedure.

Lying in bed that night, like so many nights before, I talked to God and prayed. Yet then I thought about those records being reviewed by someone new. I said to God, "Lord, if they call us tomorrow and tell us that this is not cancer after all, then You changed those records, You healed our baby."

The next day about two o'clock in the afternoon we received the call that would change our faith--no cancer. Not in that tumor, not in his lymph nodes. Nowhere!

A world-renowned specialist reviewed those records again. He looked over those records all morning, and his opinion--the tumor was benign. We called everyone we knew telling them the news. Our prayers had been answered! The church's prayers had been answered; this was now the church's baby. And the reactions we got over the news showed that. Some were crying over the phone at the news; others couldn't even talk, but just started speaking in tongues. It was awe-inspiring!

Now whenever I look at my baby, I am not only amazed at how perfect he is, but how he is our little miracle baby.

 

ninetyandnine.com

© 2003, Claire Jones

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Claire Jones is still the happiest mother in America. She lives in the St. Louis metropolitan area.


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