My life is but a weaving between my God and me. 
 I cannot choose the colors 
He weaveth steadily 
Oft' times He weaveth sorrow;
And I in foolish pride 
Forget He sees the upper 
And I the underside.
Not 'til the loom is silent 
And the shuttles cease to fly 
Will God unroll the canvas 
And reveal the reason why.  - Corrie Ten Boom 

I believe in the providence of God because of one place.  That place was Children’s Memorial Hospital in Chicago, Illinois.  On March 13, 1977 I was born with spina bifida and hydrocephalus, two conditions that would lead me to spend several weeks at a time at Children’s when I was a young boy.  I was born in a small town called Sterling, Illinois, which is just a couple hours west of Chicago.  Soon after my birth I was rushed by ambulance to Children’s Memorial.  From this point, into my early teens, Children’s was often my home away from home. 

I learned a lot about life during my stays at Children’s  I began to see life from a different perspective.  From an early age I saw how joyous life can be.  I also caught glimpses of just how tragic it can be as well.  For instance, I met a boy there during one of my stays whose mother had set him on fire.  This boy’s name was David.  He and I became friends while we both were staying at Children’s.

David was there getting treatment for his burns.  I was there being treated for a case of osteomyelitis, which is an infection of the bone.  David used to push me around the floor of the hospital where we both were staying.  He and I would talk about the things kids our age typically talk about.  However, there were also serious conversations.  It was through one of these more serious talks that I learned just how difficult David’s home life was for him.  His mother was a drug addict, who set him on fire one night when she was in a drug-fueled rage. 

Despite his circumstances, David was a very empathetic person, who seemed very kind to others.  He certainly treated me well and we enjoyed spending time strolling the halls of “three-west.”  This was one of the best floors to be on if you were staying at Children’s because the nurses were so much fun.  One such nurse was named Augie.  She was a very kind and loving woman. 

One afternoon I was given permission by one of my doctors to leave the hospital for a few hours.  Augie, my mother and I, then went to the Lincoln Park Zoo, which was several blocks away from Children’s.  It was an afternoon that I will never forget.  I had been in the hospital for several weeks, and it was such a joyful experience to get out into the fresh air and soak in the sights and sounds of the zoo.  Plus, it was fun spending time with Augie, as she loved to laugh.  It was an afternoon where I was allowed to forget about things and just relax. 

Many of the doctors and nurses at Children’s were so kind.  They were people who truly knew how to care for children.  I had the privilege of meeting individuals from all walks of life while I was at Children’s.  My orthopedic doctor, Luciano Dias, was from Brazil and was fluent in both English and Portuguese.  My urologist was a short, Jewish man named William Kaplan.  I can say he is the first doctor that invited me in to his house only to have me urinate in the entryway.  However, that is a story for another time.   

My favorite doctor of all was my neurologist, Dr. David McLone.  He was such a kind and gentle man.  He was one of the first doctors to treat me when I arrived at Children’s shortly after my birth.  Dr. McLone was the one who told my parents to take me home and love and treat me as they would any other child.  I believe it was this advice that has led me to not look at myself as someone who has a disability. 

You might ask what does all of this have to do with the providence of God.  When I was born in 1977, not much was known about spina bifida and hydrocephalus.  However, all three of the doctors that I mentioned above were physicians who were on the forefront in the treatment of spina bifida at this time. 

For instance, Dr. Dias was a pioneer in some of the surgical procedures that have allowed me to walk.  In fact, the picture of me that appears on the very first post of this blog is from a medical journal that details information about a procedure that Dr. Dias performed on me that straightened my legs, enabling me to walk. 

As noted above, I was born in a small town, which was just a two-hour drive from Children’s Memorial Hospital.  In 1977, Children’s was one of the leading centers in spina bifida research.  I was cared for by some of the leading doctors in the treatment of spina bifida.  I also had parents who sacrificed their time, finances, and energy to insure that I received the best care possible.  For the first year of my life, my parents drove me to and from Chicago each week.  There is no way this all happened by just a stroke of luck.  Children’s Memorial Hospital is no longer there on Fullerton Avenue in Chicago.  However, it will always be a part of me.  Likewise, it will always be a reminder of the providence of God.