Izak’s Miracle

It always amazes me how people all around us carry stories of miracles, and oftentimes we never even have the chance to hear them. When Lauren shared briefly on Facebook about how God healed her son Izak, I knew I wanted to hear more.

The stories God writes in our lives are meant to be shared – to encourage and ignite hope. Not everyone’s story is the same, and we can’t pretend to know how God will work in each situation, but I’m thankful that through the witness In each others’ lives, God continually shows himself faithful.

I’m honored Lauren agreed to write her son, Izak’s story down, and that I get to share it with you.

I am not by any means a writer. I genuinely have a hard time expressing myself or my feelings, so this is a very vulnerable place for me. I don’t know about you, but I don’t like vulnerable at all. In fact for the most part I run from it. So here we go…

January 24, 2012

It was a rainy Tuesday evening when my seven-year-old son, Izak, walked in the living room to ask me what all these funny dots were all over his body. I remember so many little details – I was knitting, I had made homemade bread that night. I even remember the exact place I was sitting on the couch.

As he walked up to me, he pulled his sleeves up and revealed some very large bruises, like someone had grabbed him and shook him. I started searching all over his body and to my shock, there were bruises all over him.

I immediately sat him down and started prodding, “Who did this to you, Izak? Has any one touched you? Was it someone in class?”

All his answers were “No”.

I called in our older son, showed him the bruises and asked him if he knew about it. His answers were also “No”.

I knew in my heart that something was very wrong. This was a big deal. I jumped on my group chat with my knitting girls and asked them start praying. To my surprise, one of the ladies messaged her husband who just so happened to be meeting with his mens group at the time, she asked them to start praying too.

I was restless, and really started to panic, so I called my mom. She is my rock. She’s the one who taught me to be the person I am today. We talked through it, but I told her that there was one word that kept running through my mind: Leukemia.

There I sat in a dark room at the end of my bed, and she and I prayed together, and I broke down and cried. My night was restless. I wrestled back and forth from praying to worrying, back to praying.

January 25, 2012

In the morning, I called our pediatrician, who squeezed us in first thing. I sat in the waiting room trying, without much success, to mask my worry with a smile. At some point my mother showed up; She told me I didn’t need to go through this alone.

The nurse took us back, and I sat there racking my brain through every account, every detail of the past few months. I started beating myself up – How could I have missed this? What kind of mother am I that my son is covered in bruises and I had no idea?

My very calm and collected doctor took one look at him and I could see panic in eyes. He told me that he was sending us straight to Mercy Hospital for blood work and to be prepared, because we would NOT be leaving. I asked him to be honest with me.

“What am I dealing with?” I had to ask him twice.

He looked up at me and said, “I’m almost 99% sure its leukemia.”

You know that point in movies where everything is moving in slow motion – the room, your surroundings, the person speaking to you. There’s a fog over everything, and then all of sudden, you snap out of it. It was one of the strangest things, to this day, I can close my eyes and see the whole thing play out again.

I calmly and collectedly picked Izak up and walked to the waiting room where my other 2 children waited with my mom. 

I told her we have to leave NOW, and walked speedily out the door. I didn’t want to have a break down in the waiting room, I couldn’t do it in front of other people. I didn’t want them to see me as weak.

But as soon as I got into my car, the tears couldn’t be held any longer. I even beat the steering wheel. My mom sat there a minute and watched me, giving me time to let it out. Then I picked my head up and knew in that moment that there was a fire to fight.

The whole time we were at Mercy, I tried to smile, but internally I was a mess. My husband met us at the hospital and spent most of his time sitting with Izak. I called my knitting girls to fill them in and I walked the halls and prayed alone.

You see, this is what I do – I isolate myself. I had moments of super strong faith and moments of despair, in those hours that we waited for the results.

There were two pivotal moments during that time.

The first was that although I had told for visitors to wait until we knew what we were dealing with, I turned around and our pastor was standing there. I remember hugging him (I am NOT a hugger) crying, and thanking him for not listening! Again this what I do, I tell people that I don’t need them, when in actuality, I am hurting, broken and in need of someone to just force themselves to stand with me.

The second was I went into a bathroom stall and pleaded for God to spare Izak’s life. I reminded him, He couldn’t take my child of promise from me.

You see, Izak was our rainbow baby. Back in 2004, I was pregnant with our daughter, we went in for 20 week ultrasound and found out that she had passed away. The grief was so deep, I didn’t know if I would recover. When we found out we were expecting again we were over the moon, it helped fill in the huge void that was left in our family. The pregnancy was hard, I was filled with worry and fear. It was the longest 9 months of my life. Izak was supposed to be Micah, we had the name picked out from the beginning. But when we found out that He was definitely a boy, God told us that we were to change his name to Izak. The name “Izak” means laughter, God was officially restoring laughter to our family.

After my very intense and forceful conversation with God, I got the call from our doctor.

I can still remember the shock in his voice, ”I can’t believe this, but Izak doesn’t have Leukemia. He has a blood disorder!”

Upon the reviewing the blood work, the doctors found Izak had an immune disorder called idiopathic thrombocytopenic purpura (ITP). There are 2 types of ITP, one is chronic, the other normally last a minimum of 6 months. They told us that to determine which he has, it really would depend on how he responds to treatment but we should be prepared for the worst.

Izak had tested to have only around a 5,000 platelet count. A normal count is over 150,000! I quietly thanked God for the snowless and rainy winter. One fall off his bike or on a sled could have killed him.

We breathed a huge sigh of relief. To us, a life long blood disorder didn’t seen to bad, being that we were considering Leukemia a few hours ago!

That very day, they admitted us to the hospital and started his first round of treatment. They told us we will most likely be here a few days to get his count safe.

They were hoping for around 10,000 platelet count before they would deem it “safe”. They tested his blood it had moved up a little bit but not much, so it seemed we would be there for a while.

January 26, 2012

We continued to pray, my girls prayed, our church family prayed. The doctors started the second treatment. And then they tested again. To our absolute shock and surprise, they came in and told us we were going home just one day after starting treatment.

Once again the hospital prepared us for blood draws every few weeks, with strict orders for him to stay still until his count got to 50,000. They told us it would probably take about 6 months. They made us an appointment to come for the next blood draw and sent us on our way.

As we drove home from the hospital in silence, my little 7 year old’s spirit started to praise the Lord. He suddenly started singing at the top of his lungs “How great is our God!” I remember looking out the window as we drove down Page Ave., crying and knowing in my heart we had just witnessed a miracle.

January 27, 2012

The next day our pediatrician wanted to see us again. He apologized for freaking me out and sat in wonder that not only did Izak not have leukemia but that we were already out of the hospital.

He said, “I just don’t understand”.

I looked at him and told him, “Izak was healed.”

Our pediatrician still to this day calls Izak a walking miracle.

January 28, 2012

On Saturday Izak headed back to the hospital, for what we thought would be the first of many blood draws. I stayed home with the littles to get some rest.

My husband called me on his way home and said, “You aren’t going to believe this. But Izaks count is over 150,000! We never have to go back!!”

Just like that, it was over.

They said Izak had leukemia. They were wrong.

They said he had ITP and that it was most likely going to be the forever one. Not only was it not that, it wasn’t even the 6 month one. It was a 5-day one!

I firmly believe that had we along with with our friends not fought in prayer for my son, had I given into fear, our situation would have been very different.

I believe that Izak HAD Leukemia and God healed him! I believe that Izak is going to do some mighty things for the Lord. That this is all a part of his testimony.

Each year on January 25, we have a celebration dinner as a family. We don’t want our children to forget the time we literally saw heaven and earth move on behalf of our family .


Lauren is a wife and mom to four beautiful children. She runs Skip to the "Loo" Cookie Co and teaches cookie decorating classes. You can find her beautiful cookie creations at facebook.com/skiptotheloocookieco

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