The Path

CHAPTER 30

Devotion for Today:

“Into Your hands I commit my spirit, Redeem me, O Lord, the God of truth.”  Ps. 31:3

“But I trust in You, O Lord; I say, “You are my God, my times are in Your hands; Deliver me from my enemies, and from those who pursue me;  Let Your face shine on Your servant, save me in your unfailing love.’”    Ps. 31:14-16

“How great is Your goodness which You have stored up for those who fear You, which You bestow in the sight of men for those who take refuse in You.”  Ps. 31:19

This is such a remembrance for me:

Oh Lord, aren’t there times when we all come crawling to You to ask for a reprieve?  I know I have, admitting I have no control over the days assigned to me, and throwing myself upon Your mercy.  These verses bring back so many memories of time spent on my spiritual knees doing just that…asking for mercy and healing.  Again Sigh.  Somehow I thought I had dodged a bullet when I successfully went through breast cancer in 1988 and emerged healed and whole in 1989.  I breathed a huge sigh of relief and went on with my life as if nothing had happened.  No, that’s not accurate.  No one faces stage 4 breast cancer with a recommendation of immediate mastectomy without fear, trepidation and lots of questions!  I was literally, figuratively and physically on my knees for long periods of time.  But maybe that’s human nature to arrive on the other side of illness and forget the fear, and just be grateful for health and energy once again.  I guess that is why in December of 1998 I was blind-sided with a stroke while Bob and I were watching a football game at our home in Rancho Mirage one Monday evening.  Through a series of guessing games and denial, (“I’m fine.  I don’t want to go to a hospital!”  “Maybe we should go to E.R, at Eisenhower Hospital after all.”) and a long night in emergency while the stroke diagnosis was finally confirmed, I was once again calling on the Lord, with, “You are my God, my times are in Your hands.”  Sending Andy and Sandy home…Sandy was ready to deliver Joshua in just a few weeks and everyone was frantic to get her out of the germ-laden area.  The next day, very early, I was wheeled into more diagnostic proceedings that confirmed a stroke the night before, and doctors actually ‘saw’ another one happening as I was being examined.   While the test was being administered, the “tech” kept saying.

                “Look at her eyes…look at her eyes…she’s having another stroke.”  Not a warm-fuzzy moment in my life.  And there I was again, Lord, begging for Your Presence…Your healing…Your mercy.  No, life is not fair, but it certainly is an interesting journey, and it wasn’t a question of “why me?” so much as a statement of “why not me?” and, “here we go again, Lord.  Hang on to me because I am reaching for You with every bit of energy and faith that I have!”  Wheeled back into my room, I had more questions than answers.  I was wearing a heart monitor without a clue why.  It was my brain that had two strokes, not my heart.  I put my call button on for a trip to the bathroom, but after twenty minutes, I remembered how very early that morning a nurse carefully walked me with my I.V. into my private bathroom…just a few feet away.  The door was even open.  It couldn’t be that difficult!  I very carefully swung my legs over the side of my bed and made sure my I.V. pole was moving, and successfully maneuvered my way into the bathroom.  I was so proud of my success but as I sat on the commode, I passed out.  I didn’t fall…I was well planted!  I just put my head down on my chest and fainted.  I told you I was wearing a heart monitor, and I woke up with three livid nurses yelling at me.  One took the pole and the other two each took one of my arms as I was firmly and quickly escorted back to my bed…with a very strict scolding!  As I sputtered my apologies, I was astounded to find the sides of my bed being raised with both arms wrapped in canvas and tied to the railings!  The tears started then, but I soon found this to be counter-productive because they were rolling into my ears and I had no way to stop them.  I must have dozed off  because when I woke up my hospital-assigned neurologist was untying me and telling me what a case-study I was that they were able to watch me have a second stroke up in diagnostic, and how they would start Coumadin immediately.  Which I came to find out meant blood test every few hours.  Oh, dear.  I think this was the lowest point for me.  I was having a hard time trying to process all that was happening and everything was just going too fast for me to truly comprehend…and I was only in my early 60’s.  Still young!  (Everything is relative!)  One of the administrators of the hospital was a good friend of Andy’s and when she saw the name “Weigel” come though admissions the night before, she called Andy to confirm my relationship, which was how I got such a beautiful private room.  Each day that I was there, Debby Dahl swept in to greet me…always looking like a million dollars in a red or green suit with a Christmas pin on her lapel.  I called her my Christmas Angel, and indeed she was.  She is now married to our wonderful choir director and Minister of Music in our church in Palm Desert, and still a lovely friend.  “That first day was a blur of confusion as plane tickets were canceled for Christmas back in Nebraska and a constant stream of medical personnel were in and out of my room.  That night when I finally fell asleep asking God for answers, I don’t think I had ever been so discouraged.  I knew the Lord was with me, but I could not feel His Presence.  I absolutely new this was one of those times that I was being “carried”…there was only one set of footprints in the sand…and they weren’t mine!  About three A.M. I woke up to find a hematology technician standing on my right, very lightly holding my arm.  Oh no, more needles!  As I watched her, I became aware that she was praying over me.  Her eyes were closed and her lips were silently moving.  She was a beautiful African-American woman…maybe in here 20s or early 30s.  She wore the blue slacks and smock top of her profession, and had a plain silver cross around her neck…no other jewelry…I could see her plainly because there was a constant light on behind my bed.  Finally, I said to her:  “Thank you for praying for me.  I can feel it.”  She was so sweet!  She told me that she prayed for all her patients.  She had such a quiet, peaceful countenance about her.  She wasn’t in a hurry and seemed to enjoy our quiet conversation as much as I did.  I told her she couldn’t get blood out of the arm she was holding…that it had been poked unsuccessfully all day long…but she just smiled and said, “No problem.”