My Favorite
Place
Looking
out the window of the SICU room at Pensacola’s Sacred Heart
hospital I saw the spot where nine years ago I put the star on top of the 75'
Christmas tree. My mind wandered back to the time when I cautiously stepped
foot into the small bucket of the 75' lift that would bring to completion weeks
of work on the tree seen around Pensacola.
Inch by inch we moved up the side of the tree, every foot higher I heard my heart beating louder. I couldn't do it, my knees were shaking so hard I thought the lift would topple over.
Inch by inch we moved up the side of the tree, every foot higher I heard my heart beating louder. I couldn't do it, my knees were shaking so hard I thought the lift would topple over.
Nine years later my knees were sore from spending
all night praying for my wife of 30 years. The night before I had come home
from my work at the rescue mission to find my wife laying passed out on the
floor near comatose from a stroke.
Once the paramedics got her in the ambulance and
to Sacred Heart they told me her blood sugar was over 1400, 14 times average.
The resulting stroke may have permanently damaged her brain. “If she makes it
through the night, there is a chance she will live, but she could be a
vegetable, we just don’t know yet,” the doctor told me.
Two weeks of ICU, a week step down, another week
in the hospital, three weeks in rehab, another eight weeks in a hospital bed in
our living room with rehab nurses checking her daily and a feeding tube that
lasted another two months resulted in an effective but costly and undesirable
weight loss program. We don’t recommend it.
We share this not to get your pity but to
challenge you to remember a time when all seemed lost, when nothing was going
right and the world looked dark.
No one except maybe a crazed self-absorbed man
bent on ultimate divorce would ever pray, ‘God, please give my wife a stroke.’
Yet thinking back to that dreadful night on my knees at Sacred Heart hospital,
we have seen God at work, selecting just the right nurse, the perfect doctor, a
host of home health and rehabilitation folks to guide us through this difficult
time. Not only that He continually
paraded in front of us our friends offering to help in very specific, very
direct ways.
Most of all though: He worked on our hard hearts.
You see prior to her stroke, even though I was working at a rescue mission for
homeless and addicted men and my wife was working as a seemingly lone Christian
in a very hedonistic organization, our hearts were far from Him. I can help
these guys, I would say. My wife would add that she too was alone making a
difference in her work. In both cases we didn’t acknowledge that He might need
to work on us too.
The men at the mission began reaching out to me,
gathering around to pray for me, bringing me an extra piece of chocolate cake,
coming into my office to comfort me. I was supposed to be the chaplain. I was a
biblical counselor yet God used those men to humble me and teach me His ways.
My wife who had always had the perfect home, clean,
neat, always tidy discovered over the next few months what was really
important. We both turned to Him in fresh new waves of dependence and trust.
Doubts crept in. What if she doesn’t get
better? What if she never goes back to work? What if another stroke kills her?
But they were always replaced with support, encouragement and His provision.
Daily we would get new bills but miraculously there was always money to pay. God taught us to depend on Him
fresh each day. One such day, many months later I hesitatingly called Sacred
Heart. “We haven’t received a bill.” And every time I called they would say we
are still talking with the insurance companies, often it takes a year or so
before you receive a bill. Wow, what a relief, by then my wife will be back at
work and we will have saved enough to at least put a down payment on what we
owed the hospital.
The bill that would be over $100,000 even with
our insurance was something I admit woke me up at night. Finally, the one year
mark came and I forced myself to call.
The billing department clerk found my file and
said, sir, we show no payment is needed. What? What do you mean? I asked. She
said, your account is paid in full!
That night as I led the chapel service I shared
how God had provided in such a wonderful and unexpected way but it was only the
beginning of the change that He is still working on since that horrible night
in the ICU at Sacred Heart.
You see, He doesn’t want us comfortable, rich and
self-absorbed. He works to lovingly teach us to be dependent on Him for
everything. We need to stop and thank Him for loving us enough to not leave us
in our defiant, self-oriented mindset.
It can start anywhere at anytime. An ICU room, an
oncologists office, a funeral parlor or a in the middle of a war, all work to begin changing
our lives to see them as He does. Are you listening?
My favorite place of all time? Wherever I see Him working. It is Memorial Day and it is good and right to remember those who fought and died for our freedoms. In that vein you will find attached articles that deal with tough times in the hospital, family crisis and helping those with PTSD.
One day soon I'd like to share a story of how God works in the most difficult of circumstances. Imagine you are at Pearl Harbor as the Japanese are bombing and later God asks you to forgive the man who bombed you. Could you? Would you? I know a guy who did!
If this all sounds crazy to you, let's talk.
FortMorganMinistries@gmail.com