True Church

Lifting up my arm in agony, I stared down in an attempt to find the source of my pain. Swollen, red flesh was under my arm. Stinging knots had developed under my skin. My face, now covered in a rashy, swollen mess, caused my heart to sink. Unfortunately, my condition had not gotten any better, and a Dr. was needed.

Slowly walking into the hospital ER, my body weakened by surgery, I hoped that this visit would end quickly. Hours passed by like long days, and my heart grew weary. However, out of nowhere, my mother and I began to talk to a man and woman. We spoke about the hours we'd spent waiting: the man had been there for about 4 hours, the woman for 2 days. The woman stood up into a weakened stance, her eyes drooping. "Will you watch my stuff?" she asked. All three of us did: my mother, the man, and I. While she was gone, we spent the time talking of our reason for coming. The man, an attractive fifty year old, spoke of his recent fall into poverty. His family, once always wealthy, was impoverished. He and his brothers all had to save up to pay for his fathers cancer treatments. Though the conversations delved into what sounded like deep despair, a light hearted connection was building. Before the lady had come back, we had discovered that his back was broken, but he had a great sense of humor!

I told him of my brain surgery, growing excited when I began to share how blessed I felt...how favored by God I was! I told him how I had been lead by God to read Job. God was in me to count my infirmity as a blessing! I had grown so close to God. "I just feel favored," I told him. He looked at me, eyes filled with tears. He told me(paraphrasing): "I was so angry this morning. I told my dad that I was going to have to come here and wait for hours. I told him how miserable I would be. But, it's been hours...and you and your mother......I haven't heard you complain once. You are such a blessing-" he began to weep. "I'm so sorry. It's just...you are a blessing." My heart overfills with blessings just remembering his blue eyes, filled with tears. "Girl, you are favored! Maybe you could pray for me sometime," he spoke with sincerity in his eyes, though his voice carried self-protecting humor.

Looking in his eyes, I asked, "Can I pray for you now?" He stared shocked...and it breaks my heart, because he looked honored. He looked honored to have me pray for him. I walked over, held his hand, and prayed.

When I had walked back to my seat, he told me, heart in his throat, "I'll never forget you." 

The truth is, I will never forget him. I will never forget the ten plus hours we all spent together. I'll never forget our conversations about life, love, money, and pain. I will never forget how a man, barely able to walk due to a back injury, offered to walk across the street to go buy us some McDonalds. I will never forget his tears, the feeling in those times. When strangers lifted eachother up in prayer, poured out their hearts and fears, shared their pain...served eachother. I will always remember the first time that I saw Christ's church as it was truly meant to be.

Cradled

Holding me closely, my mother was always comforting my heart. She brought me home from the hospital and cradled me in her arms. Sometimes, the pain and confusion would get so bad that I would curl up on the couch with her and weep. I remember a moment when I lay in her arms, but the familiar comfort couldn't stop my fear. Leaving the couch, I took short, determined steps toward the room that I slept in. My bones, every one of them, betrayed me. Flames of pain tormentingly wrapped around every inch. My brain lied to me, continuously telling me of its impending doom. You're going to die. I could hear it with every mind numbing moment. Every second felt like someone was using my head as a stress ball. When I reached the room, I knelt down on the floor and spoke to God. "I can't do this anymore. It hurts too much. God, I'm going to crawl up in that bed, believing that you will be there to hold me in your arms." I climbed into the bed, my face staring at the ceiling.

Astonished, I realized after some time that I was at peace. And not only at peace: I COULD NOT FEEL ANY PAIN! In that moment, I knew that God was holding me. I could feel him encircling me with his love and peace. It was so amazing, in fact, that I began to fear that I was dying!  God took that fear from me. Laying in the arms of God, floating somewhere between this life and eternity, I fell asleep painlessly for the first time.

Faithful

Lights dimmed. I could hear the sounds of trauma victims entering the Neuro ICU. Gargeling and sounds of hoses shoved down unwilling throats filled the air. My head stood completely still, rigid from fear. I asked my mom a favor. But she told me, "I don't understand what you are asking."  The anger arose within me. Am I that bad off? Can I not speak clearly? Tears filled my eyes. Whether it was straight after, I do not know, but a scripture was brought to mind. He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it.  Surely, my God who delivered me through this surgery will allow me to speak clearly!

Moments later, a nurse walked in. She was spry and dragged boundless joy in the room. Opening my eyelids, she lifted her flashlight and swept it over each eye. I felt the urge to ask her a question, a question that I would have never asked a stranger before: "Do you believe in God? I do. I believe that He who began a good work in me will be faithful to complete it."  These words shocked my nurse. But I do not believe that more than a few moments passed without her speaking, "Yes, I do!" she announced. She then began telling me the story of how her heart use to believe a lie, and how God recently set her free. Her joy was overflowing, and that joy washed over me, rinsing out all fear.