As I sit here in the University Hospital Pediatric ICU (PICU) with the monitors beeping every few seconds, I think about the longest day of my life that ended just 24 hours ago.

But before I begin, let me roll back time to one of the happiest days of my life. Oct. 16, 2009, my second son was born to my wife and me. We had all the wonderful feelings any parent would have when a child of theirs is born. We were excited, happy, thinking about all the wonderful memories that we will make as a family. We went home a few short days later and started our new lives as parents of two wonderful boys. Then we noticed something.

Our newborn son, David, had a head that did not seem to round out as quickly as our first son’s did. We talked with friends and family members and they all said give it some time. We did; it did not get better. On his two week check-up our pediatrician, Dr. Ike Pauli, diagnosed our son with craniosynostosis, the premature closing of the plates in the skull.

My wife and I then spent the next few months visiting neurosurgeons and researching just about every possible avenue to correct this condition. To be quite honest, I believe my wife could probably teach a med-school class on this subject.

We decided on a neurosurgeon named Dr. David Jimenez at University Hospital. What we found out in our many hours of research is that he and his wife, Dr. Constance Barone, invented a new endoscopic procedure to fix craniosynostosis. The traditional surgery can take anywhere between four to eight hours; his average surgery is 57 minutes. We met with Dr. Jimenez and his staff. We felt peace, and we decided to have him perform the surgery.

After weeks of anticipation, the longest day of my life arrived.

Needless to say, the night before his surgery we were nervous and did not get much sleep. We woke up early, even though we did not need to be at the hospital until 11 that morning. We got everything ready, loaded the car, and headed to the hospital with just the three of us.

I cried all the way there. I knew the pain and risk my youngest child was about to go through, and I was driving him there. It killed me. We arrived at the hospital at 11 thinking the surgery was going to take place at noon. As we checked in, we found out that there had been an emergency surgery in the OR where David was supposed to go, and it had been delayed about three hours.

Those were the longest three hours of my life. Minutes seemed to crawl by like hours. We sat and waited, hoping everything would be all right. Fortunately for us, we were surrounded by friends and family who gave us more prayer and support than we could ever imagine.

Then the time came for the surgery. My wife and I took our son back to the holding room and waited to visit with Dr. Jimenez. He came by, encouraged us, and then we handed our child over to the anesthesiologists. That was the hardest thing I have done in my life. They took him and walked down the hall. They doors closed behind them, and my heart ripped open.

Earlier in the week, the Lord reminded me of the Old Testament story in Genesis 22. It is the story of when God told Abraham to sacrifice his son, Isaac. Abraham did as the Lord told him and took his son and laid him on the altar. God then provided a ram for Abraham to sacrifice instead of his son. It was a test of his faith. Abraham passed with flying colors, and God blessed him more than he could ever imagine.

I know I was not laying my son on an altar to be sacrificed, but it sure felt like it. These past few months have been a giant test of our faith, but we have seen God move in more ways than we ever expected.

Our son’s surgery went perfect. University Hospital took fantastic care of him. His head is now a nice round shape, and we have experienced the love of God more than ever. It has been a stressful and emotionally draining past few months, but God has been faithful and has been with us every step of the way.

The biggest lesson I learned is this: When you stand firm in your faith, you are forever changed.