"God's Not Finished With You Yet"
“But to remain in the flesh is more necessary on your account. convinced of this, I know that I will remain and continue with you all, for your progress and joy in the faith.” Phillipians 1:24-25
In my recent post, I gave an abbreviated account of my health crisis of last summer. Over the next few posts, I will give a greater account of all this, and how God has worked, and is continuing to work through all of this.
I used to be fond of telling others in recent years as they told their stories about illness and hospitalization, that I “left the hospital shortly after I was born, and haven’t returned since.” Well, all of that came to a crashing halt on August 5th.
I had not been feeling well for a couple of weeks prior to that day, and hadn’t been able to walk more than about twenty yards without having to stop and catch my breath. I had experienced some chest pain when this had first begun, but this had subsided after the initial occurrence. I had been to the Doctor on Friday. I think he had suspected something like what we used to call “walking pneumonia” or some other breathing difficulty. He gave me a prescription for some meds related to that and instructions to return if things didn’t clear up in a couple days.
It was Sunday morning, and I had rode my bicycle to chapel, just barely having enough breath to make it to the top of the hill. After chapel it was an easy trip downhill, and I was assigned to the parking booth for the first few hours; so it was an easy morning. So far so good!
When I was relieved for lunch, I took a walk up to Sandi’s office to see if she was free to join me. She wasn’t in, nor was anyone else, so I turned to go out the back door. The next thing I remember was laying on the floor against the door, and beside a shelf. I figured that I could have been unconscious for as much as twenty minutes. As I began to figure out how to get myself up from the floor, one of the guys that worked in that department came in. He helped me up, and then called the company paramedics, who in turn called an ambulance. The next thing I knew, I was on my way to Mercy hospital.
When I was relieved for lunch, I took a walk up to Sandi’s office to see if she was free to join me. She wasn’t in, nor was anyone else, so I turned to go out the back door. The next thing I remember was laying on the floor against the door, and beside a shelf. I figured that I could have been unconscious for as much as twenty minutes. As I began to figure out how to get myself up from the floor, one of the guys that worked in that department came in. He helped me up, and then called the company paramedics, who in turn called an ambulance. The next thing I knew, I was on my way to Mercy hospital.
I remember the specifics of the trip to Mercy quite clearly, right up to the moment we rolled into the driveway, and I passed out again. After that, things get a bit hazy.
I remember bits and pieces from the next few days. My last clear memory of this part of the ordeal was laying on my back in bed with a consent form (for bypass surgery) in my hand, and contemplating whether to sign.
Much of what I know about the next few days is what I have been told by others, mostly by Sandi, but I do have a few things that I actually remember myself, as well as some things that I don’t know that actually happened, or that I may have dreamed.
My first such memory was of being in a large room with several other occupied beds. I don’t remember this room in the daylight. It always seemed dark. I remember that there seemed to be a viewing window on one wall of this room with people looking in. I remember that on the wall behind this viewing area there appeared to be a mural of a church and a cross. I remember seeing Sandi, and my pastor, Jeff Sanderson in the viewing area. I also remember what appeared to be a chillingly diabolical figure standing far to the left, looking on. This was not your standard devil, but one with downturned curved horns, more like I envision the “beast from the sea” from the book of Revelation. I felt very disturbed by the presence of this figure.
I also remember at a different occasion, two hospital workers beside my bed, a young lady, and young man who had a somewhat east coast sounding accent. I remember the young man telling the young lady, referring to me, the there just as well be “a couple of carrots” lying there. As I said, I don’t know how much of these memories are real or part of a dream, but if this is real, I would like to meet this young man now, and let him know that I am doing just fine, and perhaps make a suggestion as to what he can do with his carrots!
I also remember trying to communicate with a nurse, but I could not speak because of a tube in my throat. The nurse gave me a tablet to write on, but I could not write, so I was given a card with the alphabet on it, and I pointed to letters to spell out what I wanted to communicate. I spelled out “”w-h-e-r” and the nurse properly surmised that I wanted to know where I was. She explained that I was in the CICU at Mercy Hospital.
I remember trying on another occasion trying to persuade the nurse to remove the tube from my throat for a few minutes so I could communicate with her, which request she refused.
Not too long after this, I remember that it was daylight. Dr. V (i can’t say my surgeon’s name correctly regardless of how hard I try) removed my tube and I went for my first swallow test, which I must have flunked, because for the next few days I continued to be fed through a tube.
This was, however, a watershed moment. I began to feel better, and better. Instead of drifting in and out of consciousness I would simply nod off to sleep and later wake up again. I know that this sounds like the same thing, but it was of a distinctly different quality. It was more like a quality resulting from fatigue, rather than medical reasons.
Brother Jeff was the first to tell me. He, of course was a beneficiary of his own healing miracle, about which he wrote a very excellent book (Teach Us to Number our Days, Jeff Sanderson, I currently do not have my copy available and cannot provide further information.)*
He told me that I had died on the operating table, and was brought back (he didn’t say twice, I’m not sure he knew) and he concluded “God’s not finished with you yet. He still has something for you to do!”
I felt at that moment that that this was a word from the Holy Spirit to me, and that belief has kept me going through all the turmoil and frustration that the last few months have been producing.
There was at least as much struggle as victory over the next five weeks that I remained hospitalized, but I felt the presence, and moreover the power of our Lord working through this very trying experience, which I will recount next time.
Thanks for sharing this moment with me today.
Pray for the peace of Israel!
* Bro Jeff has since lost his battle, (but won the war). since the above incident, Jeff's cancer returned with a vengeance. He was admitted to hospice care shortly after Christmas, and went home to be with the Lord just before Valentine's Day.
I felt at that moment that that this was a word from the Holy Spirit to me, and that belief has kept me going through all the turmoil and frustration that the last few months have been producing.
There was at least as much struggle as victory over the next five weeks that I remained hospitalized, but I felt the presence, and moreover the power of our Lord working through this very trying experience, which I will recount next time.
Thanks for sharing this moment with me today.
Pray for the peace of Israel!
* Bro Jeff has since lost his battle, (but won the war). since the above incident, Jeff's cancer returned with a vengeance. He was admitted to hospice care shortly after Christmas, and went home to be with the Lord just before Valentine's Day.
posted by Glenn Rivers | 5:47 PM
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