A Message for Wives

This story is about Timothy, but I write it to wives.

After Timothy's birth, first surgery, and NICU stay, he came home with breathing that was squeaky and labored. Over and over, the doctors told us it was "stridor" and would go away. "That happens after surgery," or, "It's because of the intubation," they said. The surgeons, pediatricians, occupational therapists, nurses, neonatologists - everyone agreed. After all, the lymphatic malformation had been 95% removed, right?

Night after night, my husband would lay on the couch with Timothy, holding him upright to reduce the "stridor." Day after day, we would watch him struggle. And time after time, my husband would mention that he did not think Timothy was breathing well.

Now, my husband is a gentle, servant-leader and not a commander. He very seldom will give me an order. Like the Holy Spirit, he guides me by example, prodding, suggestions, and questions. And, because I know him, I knew that his "comment" really meant that he thought Timothy needed further medical attention. (Ladies, do any of you have a husband like this? Let us not give ourselves permission to disregard his word because it is not an outright command. Outward obedience to the letter, without inward submission of the heart, is disobedience.)

Every time my husband would mention Timothy's breathing, I did what every disrespecting wife does to not give the appearance of disrespect: I questioned him. "Do you want me to take him to the doctor?" I would ask, but my tone of voice said, "He's fine; that would be a waste of everyone's time." Then, feeling like he was overreacting (as I wanted him to feel), he would say, "I guess not," or something similar. "The doctors all said he was okay," I would say, to further prove him wrong and justify myself.

The scariest part is that I actually believed Timothy was alright. After all, I had a team of seasoned medical professionals backing me up. I had M.D.s, Ph. D.s, O.T.s, and every other bigshot educational degree you could imagine proclaiming Timothy's respiratory health.

But my husband knew something was wrong.

Wives, it was not Adam who was deceived in the garden, it was Eve. I was deceived. And not only did I trust in the worldly wisdom of doctors, I believed I was wiser than my own husband.

Have you ever secretly thought you knew better than him? Have you ever thought that you or someone else was smarter, more informed, stronger, or better equipped? Have you ever been ashamed or embarrassed in your heart, even though you would never say so out loud? My fellow wives, you know deep down that this is sin. 1 John 3:18-20, "Little children, let us not love in word or in tongue, but in deed and in truth. And by this we know that we are of the truth, and shall assure our hearts before Him. For if our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart, and knows all things."

God gives us husbands to protect, provide, and lead. The Spirit reveals wisdom to them so that they may fulfill this purpose. The Bible describes the roles of husband and wife as analogous to Christ and the Church. Would you harbor such thoughts of the Most Holy God? Then do not do so with your husband.

Now, back to my story. On Christmas 2009, Timothy started breathing more heavily. While I was nursing him, he stopped breathing for several seconds and his color blued a bit. "Well, the What to Expect book said that was normal," I told myself. (Again, trusting in a book over my own husband!). Then I went to change his shirt, and very clearly noticed that his entire ribcage was visible with each breath. Finally, I thought, "That doesn't look right." I called the Kaiser nurse; she said to call 911. Yet again, I thought I knew better - I decided we could bring him in ourselves. My husband offered to leave right away; no, I said, go ahead and shower and get ready first. (Still taking leadership over my husband!) So he did, and went on ahead of me.

When I did arrive at the hospital about an hour later, I entered into a mad rush to have an I.V. placed so that Timothy could get immediate intravenous steroids. The doctor on duty was pacing nervously and told me that my son would not have lasted more than a couple of hours in his condition. Within hours, Timothy was anaesthetized, intubated, and medi-vac'ed to Kaiser Sunset to undergo trachestomy surgery. I could not believe it. All of the doctors had been wrong. I had been wrong. My husband had known all along.

God was gracious to me and to my son that day. My ongoing disrepect for my husband's leadership could have cost Timothy his life. I am deeply humbled and reminded every time I look at my son's face that I should have listened to my husband. Ladies, honor your man. If he is a believer, and lives his life in accordance with God's Word, the Spirit promises to guide him as he leads your family. Know that you can be deceived. Trust him and submit to him and preserve God's protection over your life and loved ones. Take it from someone who knows.