November, 1966, Sparrows number 2, 5, and 6 (Melissa, Tim and Judy) were all doing great. Judy, born in February, was now nine months old, and I was seven months pregnant! Don’t try that one, ladies!

“Gene, I think we had better call the doctor.”
“He’s gone on vacation,” the nurse told him. “Dr. Brown will take care of your wife. Take her to the hospital.”

Labor is never easy in premature births and this one was especially difficult because of the loss of Sparrows l, 3, and 4, plus two early-stage terminations, unmentioned. Mentally and physically I was not ready to deliver again. I lay completely in God’s hands. Never has any strain on my body been so great, and my mind went to the brink of collapse from the pain. But as we humans approach that cliff, Jesus is always standing there waiting to stop us from going over IF we love Him; and then many times when we don’t. He stopped me. I was able to bear that pain only through His grace. Yes, His grace is sufficient. His power is all encompassing and all elements are at His command. Hallelujah to our God and King! Praise be to His honor and glory forever!

A nurse held up a precious little girl. I looked at her size and turned away. I knew she wouldn’t make it. She was smaller than any of the others had been. Susan died weighing 4½ pounds, Michael at 5½ pounds. Debra didn’t have a chance at 3 1/2. As the nurses smiled over her, I thought very cynically, “I wouldn’t give you a plug nickel for her surviving.” They didn’t know my history. This was another hospital. We had just moved to Olathe, Kansas. My body couldn’t take the stress, and she came two months early.

Dr. Brown came bustling through the ward door with a “Good morning, Mrs. Harrington. This is Dr. Denison. He’s a pediatrician from K.U. Medical Center. He’ll be taking care of your baby.” I knew well why a pediatrician was called in. It was going to be nip and tuck for her survival. Dr. Denison spoke up, “It’s past the twelve-hour danger period for hyaline membrane; she’s a fighter. You can relax.”
“Oh, yeah,” I thought, “ just you wait and see.” I had no faith at all that Debra would live. We didn’t even give her a name. We waited and watched. God had not spared my others when I had so pleaded in my heart for them, yet with peace, willingly submitted to His will over mine. Why would He spare this one? What made her different?

I recovered quickly and went home. Debra stayed in the isolate. A week passed and she began losing ground. Her weight dropped to 2½ pounds. One afternoon I received a phone call.
“Mrs. Harrington, this is Dr. Denison. I have some bad news.”
I was ready for this— resigned to the worst—totally negative. I listened.
“Your baby is having difficulty breathing. She is choking and spitting up. She turns blue for lack of oxygen. If she has one more spell we want to take her to K.U. Medical Center for open heart surgery. We think she has a hole in the heart.”
Something in what he said didn’t ring true in me. “Doctor, are you sure it’s a hole in the heart?” I asked. I imagined her little 2½ pound body going through that operation—only God would be able to pull her through, and what if it wasn’t a hole in her heart? At this point it was speculation as to what it was. The doctor didn’t know. A dream flashed through my mind that I had when I was carrying her in the womb. I hadn’t understood it, but felt I should ask the doctor about it.
“Doctor,” I said, “I had a dream in which I was holding a pair of human lungs in my hands. They were encased in some kind of sac or membrane and couldn’t expand. I then saw a green slimy mucous fall away and heard a voice say,'There is a newborn babe that has a serious disease, but don’t worry, it will be healed.' ”
As I related the dream he listened quietly, then exclaimed, “Why, that’s hyaline membrane!”
“Doctor, sometimes my dreams come true,” I said. “Could she have this instead of a hole in the heart? Would you consider this also?”
“But,” he said, “it is past the time when she should have shown signs of getting it. She’s past the danger period.” He paused then started again, “Mrs. Harrington, there is something I want to share with you. I believe in the power of prayer. Last night as I knelt in my church praying for the babies in my care, your baby stood out in my mind and I prayed most earnestly for your baby to receive a blessing. What you have related to me about your dream has given me more hope than you can know. I still think it’s a hole in the heart, but we will wait and see!”
As Gene and I discussed the handling of the matter, we knew Debra’s life lay in God’s hands. She had nothing of her own to pull her through. If she was to live, it was by God’s grace alone. If He was going to heal her, He could do it in the Olathe Hospital as easily as in the K.U. Medical Center on the operating table, where He would have to or she wouldn’t make it there either. Of this fact her father and I were in total agreement.
“Well, Gene, what do we do? ” I asked.
“Leave it in God’s hands. We won’t consent to an operation. We won’t put her little body through that,” he said. And it was settled.
A few days later, about 6:30 a.m., I was awakened by an audible Voice calling to me, “Janice, she’ s sinking.” I sat straight up in bed. I’m sure Debbie’s guardian angel alerted God that her spirit was getting ready to depart her little body, so the Spirit warned us. I knew He was telling me she was dying.
“Lord, what shall I do? ” I cried.
“Call My elders,” the Voice said.
“But who, Lord, has the power to save her?” I asked.
He gave me the name of Elmer Kaler. I’d heard of him, but didn’t know him.
“Who else, Lord?”
The Spirit urged me to reflect back to a dream I had that I didn’t understand:

I dreamed I was having a miscarriage. An elder with the gift of knowledge, and well known in the church for teaching, was administering to me and I wasn’t being healed. It was gross misuse of his Melchisedec gift. He simply had no power. But when another elder, a young man named Gilbert Remmington, apparently with the gift to heal, came and stood just inside the door, and prayed without even touching me, I was healed.

“Yes, Lord, I remember the dream.”
He said, “That’s the other elder and now is the time.”
Gilbert’s father, Ralph, had baptized me at the age of twelve and I hadn’t seen Gilbert since we were children. I didn’t know if he was in the priesthood, or even in the church for that matter, but God knew.

Gene had worked a midnight shift and was just walking in the door. I told him what had been revealed. He got hold of Brothers Remmington and Kaler, and they, along with a Brother H. Lively were administering to Debra in a few hours. Brother Kaler reached into the isolate and anointed Debra’s head with consecrated olive oil, then they prayed. Brothers Remmington and Lively stood just inside the door of the room and prayed (just as I had seen Gilbert do in my dream).

They left her in God’s hands and returned home. I wasn’t physically able to go to the hospital. I waited at home on my knees in prayer. I had no impressions one way or the other. I didn’t know what would happen. If the doctor had known it was hyaline membrane we were dealing with, I would have known the outcome, for God told me in the dream that the baby with it would be healed, but the doctors didn’t know. We waited. No phone calls of any more trouble—nothing. Days went by. Debra was so little we couldn’t hold her when we went to the hospital. She looked so pitiful because she was so tiny, so we just stayed home and waited.

A few weeks passed and one day we received a surgical bill. “Hey, Gene, what’s this $35.00 surgeon’s bill for? We didn’t consent for any surgery on Debra. Call the hospital.” Gene heard a remarkable story from the accountant when she checked it out. The nurses told her that a large lump swelled up under Debra’s right jawbone and a surgeon was called in to lance it. A huge amount of green, slimy mucous poured out from the incision. They had never seen anything to equal it. “My dream,” I squealed in delight! ”She did have hyaline membrane!“ I saw the slime fall away and was told the baby would be healed. Praise the Lord, that was my baby in the dream! God had held Debra’s life in His hands even before she came. He showed me before her birth what He would do.

She didn’t have one more spell from the time His elders administered to her, and began gaining so rapidly that she was back to a normal weight (for my babies) by the ninth month. She had lain in God’s hands those two months, hanging between life and death while He and the doctors performed a wonderful work on her, and when she was strong enough, He handed her back to us. She gained three ounces a day, 1½ pounds her first week home. The following letter tells it all.

Mission Clinic--Diseases of Children
"Dear Mrs. Harrington, Having missed you on several phone calls, I wanted to drop you a note before leaving on a Christmas vacation. As you well know, your little girl is growing like a weed, and a wonderful baby. She is gaining weight much faster than the usual baby, and within several weeks should be home. I've turned her care back to Dr. Brown, as I'm sure no further problems will arise. I couldn't be more delighted that God has smiled on this little lady, and I know you feel the same. Best wishes for a wonderful holiday. Sincerely, Terry R. Denison, M. D. "

 

 Jesus and the Sioux

The testimony of Debbie’s birth is not complete until the role the Sioux Indians played in it is shared. I mentioned the Indian who named Judy, Beautiful Flower; his name is Ed Rich. Ed was the leader of their Quorum of Twelve from the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota. They had come for help and Gene and I, along with several other families, sent them a 16 foot van filled with supplies. Debbie was in the womb at the time.

Ed and some of his Indian brethren returned for a visit to thank us after Debbie was born. As we were telling them of her miraculous healing, the Spirit told Ed just why Debbie had been so blessed. Ed testified his people were in great need and he wanted to go some place to get help. They were holding a prayer meeting when one of their prophetic women stood up and Jesus spoke through her to Ed. “Where you are going,” He said, “they are going to help Me, and I am going to help them.” Ed questioned the Spirit, “What do you mean, ‘They are going to help You’ ”? The Lord answered with a Scripture, “Inasmuch as you do it to the least of these, you do it unto Me.” Ed didn’t receive understanding of this until he heard Debbie’s wonderful healing. As I shared it, the Spirit said to him, “This is what I meant, ‘I was going to help them’.”

We told the Indians that we didn’t have any money to pay the hospital bill. Gene had recently changed jobs and the insurance hadn’t taken effect yet. When he phoned them about it, they said they wouldn’t pay it. We signed the insurance papers anyway at the hospital, and took her home on the faith that God would help us. Three of the Indian men laid hands on my head and asked God to impress the insurance company to pay that two month bill. God did, and they paid it.