An Undeserved Encounter With God

Approximately two weeks before my mom passed away, right after we were given her prognosis, I woke up around three o’clock in the morning with a horrible panic attack. I had been in a deep sleep, and then I woke up with an unsettling, terrifying feeling washing over me. I sat up in bed with tears streaming down my face and with an overwhelming feeling of panic.

All I could think about was the fact that I was about to lose my mom, my daughters were losing the grandma they loved dearly, and it was completely and utterly out of my control. There was absolutely nothing I could do about it: she was going to leave me and I wouldn’t have a mom anymore. She wouldn’t be there to guide me or help me or encourage me to continue in this world.

I spoke to her daily, sharing my joys, my fears, my doubts, and my stresses. She was there to listen, and gave great advice and wisdom. She would say things like, “This too shall pass” and “Is it that critical or important?” and bring everything into a better perspective. She wasn’t just my mom; she was my friend too. I needed her! I felt cheated, I felt robbed, and I felt angry. She was supposed to live to be a hundred years old, not fifty-six years old!

Then suddenly, my panic attack stopped. There was no gradual decline of emotion or feeling of panic like the way a normal panic attack works its way down. Mine just stopped automatically. No more crying, no more fear, and no more panic. Then I heard a loud voice say, “Kelli, get your Bible!” At the time I didn’t think about the fact that God had just spoken to me. All I thought was Okay, where is my Bible? I got out of my bed, turned on the lights and started searching for it.