Little Dove

The year is 2012, and I lay dying on a vinyl gurney 100 miles from home.

Diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia just weeks before, I anxiously await the results from my post-chemo bone marrow biopsy. I don’t handle tests well. Am I in remission? When can I go home? What’s next?

After hours of waiting, my doctor cautiously enters my hospital “corner suite,” followed by a team of fellows. He mumbles some data about my blast (cancerous) cells, which doesn’t seem like good news and starts talking about my options going forward. The team leaves, and I’m as much confused as I am devastated. My dad stops the doctor in the hallway and gets the straight answer we didn’t want: “It looks like we didn’t treat him.”

Samantha, never letting her composure slip, silently exits after some time to call her dad. She starts in.

“His blast cells are higher than before. It looks like he wasn’t treated…”

Her mind drifts toward the innumerable pigeons who frequent the hallway ledge meandering back and forth, heads bobbing as they waddle; only one isn’t a pigeon.

This one stands out. This one is white. This one is a dove, and it’s interested in Samantha. In fact, it looks directly at her.

Samantha tries to explain to her dad what she’s seeing, but he can’t understand what she’s saying. The dove, unwavering, walks away as calmly as it had appeared. And there is peace. No fanfare, but simple peace.

In Genesis 8, Noah sends a raven out of his temporary home, an ark, after 40 days of flooding to search for, hope upon hope, dry land. The raven didn’t return but flew until finding its target.

Noah then sent a dove, not once, but twice to see if there was finally dry land; to see if God had indeed healed the land. On the second trip, the dove returned with an olive leaf.

Two years ago, Samantha and I faced a pregnancy we thought could never happen. And even if it did, could it possibly end well? But while we were languishing in the ark, metaphorically, God sent a raven for us. Or in our case, he sent a Bear—a healthy, vibrant, loving boy.

But, like Noah, we didn’t know if we had been completely healed, or if Bear was miraculously delivered to us through complete divine intervention.

So, God sends a dove; another baby boy. And this boy brings back an olive leaf. Healed indeed.

Allow Samantha and me to introduce the world to Callum Flint Nail. Our little refiner. Our little fire bird. Our dove.

The year is 2017, and Samantha reclines on a hospital bed in our hometown. And we live as a family of four.

(Plus a puppy. We love you, Augie!)

Callum Flint Nail
Born at 6:08pm on 10/20/17

7lbs. even, 19½” long