I think someone needs to hear this story.

I don’t know why God heals some and not others. But I know that he can and does at times. I believe in miracles because I have experienced them in my own life. This is one of those stories.

I also believe in God’s presence in the midst of pain and suffering because I have experienced his love in those times, as well. If you are facing the turmoil, uncertainty, and grief of sickness, please know that God is with you. I pray that this testimony of his power will point past Dara, Max, and our family and straight to Jesus.

You are not alone.

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“It’s a boy!”

I had been dreaming of this moment since I was a boy growing up on Claymore Court West in Canton, Michigan. I thought it would be so cool to have a son. I would teach him how to drive, shave, and hit a curveball. He would be one of my best friends.

“We already have a name for him,” I told the ultrasound technician. “His name is Max David Docusen.”
I never imagined that this moment would be accompanied by my worst nightmare. We were at the hospital getting an ultrasound because Dara was fighting a major kidney infection.

“David,” Dr. Collins said, “We are going to need to increase the amount of medicine we are giving to Dara. I feel compelled to tell you that this could impact the pregnancy, but we need to make sure Dara is ok at this point.”

“Impact the pregnancy. What does that mean?” I replied.

Dr. Collins took a deep breath and said, “The levels of medicine we need to give Dara could result in the termination of the pregnancy.”

I stood next to the bed in stunned silence as Dara received the extra medicine and fell asleep peacefully. I sat outside the room on a metal folding chair and made a few calls to update our family and friends.

We had to pray.

I finished a call with her mother and went back inside to quietly check on her. As I entered the room, I heard a faint whisper, “Babe, help me.”

The infection in her kidney entered her bloodstream and quickly made its’ way to her lungs. We would soon find out that her lungs were crashing and her life was in danger because of a condition called Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome (ARDS). She was four months pregnant with Max.

Dara spent the next two days in the intensive care unit.

Dr. Collins called me out of the room around 10:30pm on the second night in the ICU. He told me to be prepared to say goodbye to Dara and Max. He was not sure they would make it through the night. I couldn’t think or breathe or process anything for several moments.

I asked everyone to leave the room.

I sat next to Dara as she was laboring to breathe. I placed my right hand on her belly and Max gave a strong kick directly into the middle of my palm. I raised the other hand to heaven and I began to worship God.

Lord, I give you my heart, I give you my soul, I live for you alone
Every breath that I take, every moment I’m awake
Lord, have your way in me.

I called out the sickness by name. “ARDS, be gone in the name of Jesus.”

As I was worshiping and praying, Dara’s breathing regulated and she fell asleep peacefully. We could feel the presence of God in the room with us. Dara and I slept peacefully on the night her and Max were not expected to live.

The next morning, Dr. Collins came in with a very concerned look on his face.
Dara greeted him with a smile.
“Dara,” he asked curiously, “How do you feel?”
“I feel great, Dr. Collins,” she replied.

“This doesn’t make any sense. I don’t know how to explain this.” He was looking at Dara and then back at his notes over and over again.

“Doc,” I said with every ounce of conviction and belief in my spirit. “God healed my wife.” He looked at me over the rim of his glasses that rested on the end of his nose.

“David, I don’t believe in miracles, but I don’t have an explanation for you. Dara is completely better. We are transferring her back to a normal room for observation. If all goes well, you can go home in twenty-four hours.
Twenty-four hours later, we were home.

Five months later, after twenty-one hours of labor, Max David Docusen was born on December 7, 2003.
He was six pounds, seven ounces and twenty-one inches long.

He is one of my best friends.


Dara and Max beat impossible odds. When I was terrified and did not know what to do in the natural, I went back to what I did know to do in the spirit.

Prayer and worship.

The night my wife and son were fighting for their lives, I prayed against a specific illness called ARDS. I have joined with family and friends and prayed against cancer, anxiety, depression, etc.

What are you praying for that seems impossible?

Call it out by name.

God has not always displayed his power miraculously like he did that night in the ICU for Dara and Max, but I always know he is listening. I know he is with us.

Always.