God Doesn't Lie: A Medical Miracle

By Alane Byrd

God's words, rooted in one's soul, send up shoots of many good things including peace, hope, and healing. Depending on what one is facing, a large root ball may be needed for a little shoot of hope to sprout.

This is a true story of a young mother of six. As she deals with the challenges and disappointments of life, she finds h

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stratton Press
• Release date: Jun 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9781648959844

Alane Byrd

Alane is a mother of six and Yaya to ten beautiful grandchildren. She works as an engineering designer and is involved in her church community. She loves to travel and to spend time with her family and friends. She counts every day a blessing and is in awe of the goodness of her God.

Book preview

God

Doesn’t Lie

A Medical Miracle

Alane Byrd

God Doesn’t Lie

Copyright © 2022 Alane Byrd

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Stratton Press Publishing

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Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Shutterstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

ISBN (Paperback): 978-1-64895-985-1

ISBN (Ebook): 978-1-64895-984-4

Printed in the United States of America

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

In Conclusion

God is not a man, that He should lie,

Nor a son of man, that He should repent.

Has He said, and will He not do it?

Or has He spoken and will He not make it good and fulfill it?

—Numbers 23:19

Chapter 1

If a wise man contends with a foolish man, whether the fool rages or laughs, there is no peace.

—Proverbs 29:9

I had everything I ever wanted—six great children, a nice home, and a husband who worked in a technical profession. But outward appearances can be deceiving.

When I started working for the power company after college, I met Charlie, my blond engineer. He swept me off my feet. He couldn’t do enough for me. He treated me to dinners and outings—anything I wanted was mine. He couldn’t spend enough time with me. He even left a golf outing with his brothers early because he didn’t want to be apart from me. He was so kind and attentive and incredibly patient. I melted.

One day, he tried to teach me how to drive his ’67 Porsche, which had a stick shift. I was not experienced driving a stick shift. As I stopped at an intersection at the top of a fairly steep hill, a huge logging truck with glaring headlights pulled up inches from my bumper.

The trucker blasted his horn, putting me into a panic. I frantically asked Charlie to switch with me and get behind the wheel. He ever so calmly said the man behind us could wait. I could take my time. He knew I could do it. And with encouraging words in that sweet Southern drawl, I was able to calm down and pull out without a problem.

We were married within a year. On our honeymoon cruise to the Virgin Islands, I began to notice an attitude change in Charlie. Suddenly spending time together was not a priority for him. He seemed to want to spend more time with other people on the cruise than he wanted to spend with me. For me, the honeymoon started to end before we even returned home to Virginia.

In our marriage, Charlie could be incredibly sweet, romantic, and caring one minute and then turn and be mean and abusive—typically verbally but on occasion, physically. My life with him was like a roller coaster. Even in the most calm and enjoyable moments, there was always an underlying tension—like walking on eggshells knowing something is eventually going to crack—not at all what I had been exposed to growing up. This was totally foreign to me.

With the arrival of our first child, Charles, life got busy. Within nine months, I became pregnant again, and we agreed that I would leave my job and be a stay-at-home mom. Without my income, money quickly became a major issue. He earned it. It was his.

The twins, Amie and Aaron, were born when little Charles was only eighteen months old. Aaron had Down syndrome and had a host of health problems to contend with the first year of his life. Caring for three children—babies really, under the age of two—was an overwhelming job for me. It was my responsibility. Charlie could come and go as he pleased. At times he would watch them—but I couldn’t count on it. In one particular instance, he refused to watch them long enough for me to cross the street to attend a neighbor’s party—the kind where they are selling something.

I had looked forward to just getting a break and talking with ladies, but he refused and had to cut the long, overgrown grass that afternoon. While watching the children, I sat on the picnic bench and watched the ladies come and go.

Even so, he could be a great dad at times. He bought Charles a cozy coupe, a little plastic car he could sit in and drive around the yard. Charlie would get down on the floor and play and laugh.

He even gave Aaron a bath in the kitchen sink—I still smile when I think of that. After the twins were born, he also became involved in church. This gave me hope. Occasionally, everything seemed to fit with my idea of a little happy family, and I would hold on to those times and put the trying times out of my mind.

A satisfied soul loathes the honeycomb, But to a hungry soul every bitter thing is sweet.

(Proverbs 27:7)

Within the next few years, little Rachael was born, followed by Sivana, and then my youngest, Julianna. I loved my children. I loved raising them. I loved being with them. In the midst of those years came some scattered wonderful memories but alongside them crushing ones.

I was thirty-five years old, in an unhappy marriage with six children ranging in age from one and a half years to twelve years old. But life went on.

Chapter 2

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but when the desire is fulfilled, it is a tree of life.

—Proverbs 13:12

December is a time of year one generally associates with Christmas—full of brightness and warmth and joyful festivities. But in reality, the month itself is cold, gray, and dark. December of 1997 for me was more of a reflection of the coldness and darkness rather than the warmth and cheer. That season in my marriage was a continuous source of stress. Caring for my six beautiful children was a joy, but the housework that came with it was very demanding. I just wanted to play and interact with them, but in order to