Waiting With Faith in the NICU

Waiting on God has taught me patience, but it has also taught me to stay ready. When we are waiting, it can feel like nothing is happening, but faith reminds us that God is always working, even when we cannot see it. Waiting does not mean God is absent. Waiting does not mean He has forgotten. Sometimes waiting is the place where He strengthens our faith, softens our hearts, opens our eyes, and prepares us for what He is about to do.

Every day I am here with my daughter in the NICU, I see God working in and through me. I see Him restoring people’s faith. I see Him comforting families who are scared, exhausted, and overwhelmed. I see Him making room for conversations about hope, prayer, and His goodness. I see Him reaching people who may have never truly known what real love feels like. Even in a place filled with monitors, machines, medical reports, and uncertainty, the presence of God is still moving.

This morning, when I went to visit Sydney, I found out she did not have a good night. She stopped breathing twice.

That kind of news never gets easier to hear.

No matter how much faith you have, your heart still drops when you hear words like that about your child. Fear tries to rush in. Questions start forming. Your mind begins to go places you do not want it to go. But even in those moments, I have to remind myself of what I know to be true: Sydney is in the palm of God’s hand.

She is not forgotten.

She is not alone.

She is not outside of His care.

I believe God will not allow anything to happen to her unless it is within His will, and I believe He will give us the grace to endure whatever we are called to walk through. That does not mean this is easy. It does not mean I understand it. It does not mean I do not cry, worry, or feel the weight of it. It means I am choosing to trust the character of God when the circumstances around me feel uncertain.

I trust in Jesus because He is my great Deliverer. I know He is walking beside me in this storm. He is not watching from a distance. He is not unconcerned. He is near. He is present. He is faithful.

I trust in my strong Defender because I know that when I cannot walk any farther, He will carry me. When my strength runs out, His strength remains. When my emotions are stretched thin, His grace is still sufficient. When I feel powerless, He reminds me that He is my blessed Redeemer, my refuge, my help, and my hope.

On my own, I would be hopeless and lost. On my own, I would be consumed by fear. On my own, I would not know how to keep walking into the NICU day after day, hearing difficult updates, seeing my daughter struggle, and still choosing to believe. But by the grace of God, I have peace. Not because everything is perfect, but because God is still in complete control.

There is no other way I could walk through this without complete faith in God’s sovereignty.

Daily, my faith is being tested. But I am also realizing that tested faith can become strengthened faith. Faith that has never been tested may remain shallow, but faith that has been stretched through tears, prayers, waiting, and surrender becomes rooted in something much deeper than emotion.

James 1:2-4 says, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.” That does not mean we enjoy the trial. It means we trust that God can produce something holy in us through the trial. He can use what hurts to develop endurance. He can use what scares us to deepen our dependence. He can use what feels unbearable to reveal that His strength truly is made perfect in weakness.

In our times of need, the best thing we can do is draw near to God. And the beautiful promise of Scripture is that when we draw near to Him, He draws near to us. He does not push away the weary. He does not reject the brokenhearted. He does not shame us for feeling weak. He invites us closer.

Our faith is our trust in God, especially when things do not happen according to our plan.

And if I am honest, this is not the plan I had. We want to take our baby home so badly. We want to buckle her into the car seat, walk through our front door, hold her without wires attached, and begin life together as a family at home. Watching other people take their newborns home has become increasingly hard. I am happy for them, but it hurts. It reminds me of what we are still waiting for.

But even in that ache, I believe God is accomplishing more than we can imagine.

He alone is the Great Physician. He is the Lord who heals. He is the One who formed Sydney in her mother’s womb. He knows every breath she takes. He knows every detail of her tiny body. He sees what the doctors see, and He sees what they cannot see. He is not limited by reports, timelines, setbacks, or complications.

I am choosing to walk by faith and not by sight, even though I do not understand why this is happening. Walking by sight means I only respond to what I can see in front of me. Walking by faith means I trust the unseen hand of God even when what I see is painful. Walking by faith means I believe God is working even when the update is not what I wanted. Walking by faith means I keep praying, keep believing, keep showing up, and keep trusting.

Our tests and challenges refine us. They reveal what is really in our hearts. They show us where our trust has been resting. If our hope is truly in God, we can find peace even in the middle of uncertainty. But if our hope is only in outcomes, timelines, control, or circumstances, then every setback will shake us to the core.

That is why I need the Comforter more than ever.

I do not just need answers. I need His presence.

I do not just need Sydney to improve. I need my heart anchored in the One who holds her.

I do not just need the storm to stop. I need to know that Jesus is in the boat with me.

Psalm 34:8 says, “Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him.” I can say with confidence that even here, even in the NICU, even in the waiting, even after hard reports and long nights, the Lord is good. His goodness is not proven only when life is easy. His goodness is revealed when He sustains us through what we never thought we could survive.

Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord. Blessed is the one who runs to Him instead of running from Him. Blessed is the one who pours out their heart before Him and finds Him to be a refuge. Blessed is the one who says, “God, I do not understand this, but I still trust You.”

His way is perfect. His Word is proven. He is a shield to all who trust in Him.

When we pour our hearts out to Him, He does not turn away. He listens. He comforts. He strengthens. He shelters. He reminds us that we are not alone.

Today, I am still waiting. I am still praying. I am still believing for Sydney’s complete healing and restoration. I am still trusting God to strengthen her lungs, regulate her breathing, guide the doctors, comfort my wife, sustain our family, and use this entire season for His glory.

I may not understand the waiting, but I trust the One I am waiting on.

I may not know what tomorrow’s report will say, but I know who holds tomorrow.

And I believe with all my heart that the same God who has carried us this far will continue to carry us until we are standing on the other side, holding Sydney in our arms, telling the story of how faithful He has been.