Death and Miracles
Thursday, February 28, 2013
We've been discussing death and family a lot of our discussion board and felt prompted to share this blog. It is really way to big to put in the message board.
As a teenager I became a Christian and sought to talk to my parents about Jesus. First person to talk to was my alcoholic father. He was very easy to talk to BUT after I was through he said “Jeanine I know, KNOW that everything you are telling me is the truth but (he holds up a can of beer as he’s driving) this is my God now. My mom was not nearly so easy to talk to and shut me down right away saying your father taught me everything I need to know about God (the can of beer perhaps?) and he’s the most godly man I know. For years I left it but they knew where I stood.
I’m in my late 40’s and my dad has congestive heart failure. Again I face the fact that I really need to talk to my dad about Jesus. I had the cell group that I was involved with that I felt I needed to have ‘that talk’ with my dad again. I knew my mom would not let me get a word in edgewise so I needed to talk to him alone and needed prayer to that effect. Armed with people praying I went down to Washington again.
My parents lived in a fifth wheel and not a big one at that. Mom, dad and I were in the kitchen sitting down at the table. My dad grabbed my hands and said ‘you know honey, you don’t have to worry about this heart of mine’.
‘Daddy, it isn’t that heart I’m worried about,” I said. My mom got up and left the room. Prayer answered! She did, however stand at the entrance to the kitchen – almost as if to block anyone else from entering and she could hear EVERYTHING I said, but she said nothing.
My dad and I talked about faith, the fact he didn’t have MY faith or my type of faith. He didn’t mean faith in God just the strength of my faith. After telling him the beauty of it all is that he didn’t have to be like me, God will accept him where he is with his short comings. God didn’t expect him to be perfect but to accept God in HIS perfectness. We had quite the long talk but he was not willing to go any further than talking at that moment. I never saw him alive after that day.
Not quite 6 years later I’m with my mom as she’s faced with only having two weeks left to live. Preparations were being made for me to take care of her in my brother’s home. I’ve had LPN training and my brother is a paramedic. I thought I had LOTS of time to talk with her. She was in a hospital in Oregon, we transported her to Washington in our vehicle. The news of her illness was received on Wednesday and Friday we moved her to Washington. That was quite a trip! Before taking off I contacted the church we were members of and asked for prayer. I didn’t want mom dying in the car, safe passage and God’s love and protection throughout.
Mom was in a hospital in Grants Pass. Armed with morphine and oxygen we loaded up the Trailblazer which was the most comfortable of the three vehicles in this Jacobson Cavalcade. I drove while John administered doses of what was needed. Just before we got to Tacoma John checked on mom. When he sat in his seat again he had a weird look on his face, eyes big. He asked if he could drive for a while. I said sure. He told the other two cars not to try to keep up (I was oblivious to this) and we took off. The ride seemed pretty uneventful although both Kerry (John’s wife) and my husband with my oldest daughter said they passed several policemen with vehicles pulled over, a couple of accidents (Kerry thought maybe WE caused them, lol) and we saw nothing.
We got to the hospital in Everett and got mom checked into her room before the other two vehicles got there. John asked me to come down with him to get some things from the vehicle while everyone else was making sure mom was all settled in. John has always been a bit sensitive to different things so what he had to tell me did not come as a complete surprise.
When he checked on mom before Tacoma he said he was a bit spooked because she wasn’t the only one in the back seat. He couldn’t say who else was there but he KNEW she wasn’t alone. I smiled. I said God was with her/sent his angel to be with her. I prayed for this as did many others. He’s been around dead people a lot but this in itself was new to him. Maybe because it was so personal. He also told me that when dad died he was there before the paramedics and he’s developed this habit when in the room with a dead person, to lay his hand on their chest, arm, head, anywhere and pray for them. He put his hand on dad’s chest to say a little prayer and lifted his hand up suddenly, instantly knowing dad was okay. Again I smiled and nearly cried telling him he was supposed to tell me that. I had never known the status of dad’s heart when he died. I knew he had time to make a confession, he knew he was dying that night but didn’t know if he was holding onto his old life.
John chose to stay with mom that night. Being a paramedic I suspected he knew she wouldn’t last the night. He held her hand, told her that we ALL loved her. Listed us each by name and told her that she didn’t need to stay for us, it was okay to go if she wanted. She labored with her breathing (she had lung cancer) and at one point looked up talking to someone John couldn’t see and said “please, take me now.” She took two more breaths and was gone.
I lost my mom and my dad but the miracle is I WILL see them again. I have this assurance.