“…Come; for all things are now ready.” Luke 14:17
Those are the words that the Bride of Christ will one day hear. And we so long to hear them. However, they were not the choice words of that day.
When Mark’s call came, we knew immediately what would be soon taking place.
As Aimee urged Jeff to drive faster (he was already driving fast enough) she told him she’d pay his ticket. (What about the increase in insurance Aimee?) We were thinking like sisters. Not like responsible drivers. Yes, it’s a good thing Jeff was there. For many reasons. He’s my help-mate. He gives my heart peace when my world around me is crashing down.
But there are some things he can’t do. He couldn’t do what I wanted him to do.
When we arrived, wait, let me preface this with—-“I don’t do well in hospitals”. At all. No joking. Never have. Okay. Said that–maybe you’ll understand the rest.
When we got up on the 5th floor, Wanda’s room was now located just outside the nurses desk. We found it quickly and we all went inside. I was not prepared for what I saw. I have told you before—my face tells too much some times. I just really hope that on that day, God somehow hid my reaction.
I leaned over Wanda, kissed her cheek, told her how much I loved her, and then with tears in my eyes, went to hunt my purse. (Sounds crazy I know.)
Years ago—actually, in the early months of 1985, my maternal grandmother was very ill and in the hospital. I was over 8 months pregnant with April and having just been to my doctor to have my blood checked and walked over to the hospital where “Mamo” was. Ya’ll…I told you I do not do well—-when I saw Mamo, I almost fainted. I became very light headed, nauseated, and things started going blurry. I sat down quickly and put my head down—as far as a pregnant woman can. (Not very far.) After a drink —and some “not looking” at Mamo—I was able to pull my mind together and get up, hug her and then leave. Quickly.
Fortunately, this time I didn’t quite do the fainting thing. But—I became very anxious in my mind and heart. I picked up my small Bible from my purse—I needed to hold onto something that represented GOD—and that was it. Then I went to find Jeff.
I knew right then and there—I was NOT going to leave this hospital no matter what until God did something. One way or another. I was there. Period. So, I “thought” that Jeff might not want to “sit around” all day—he might want to get a hotel room—or go eat—or something. I didn’t want him bored—I wanted him comfortable. That’s what I was thinking anyway. He wasn’t thinking anywhere near that ball park. (I didn’t mention that cool headed Jeff does well in almost every single circumstance. In our families, he’s the one called on if someone has an emergency. Any emergency.)
He was standing just outside the door and I came up to him and said, “do you want to go to the motel and rest? Do you want to go eat? Do you want to go to the waiting room?” See? So many questions—because my mind was in a race.
He didn’t quite see my point—and with a little bit of a tone (girls you know when they have that tone)—he said, “Well Angie, what do you want me to do?”
That was it. My undoing. Right then and there—my thoughts were—“I WANT YOU TO HEAL MY SISTER THAT’S WHAT! BUT YOU CAN’T!”
Sorry for yelling like that—but my MIND yelled it. I just never said it. I was desperately wanting her healed…and it just wasn’t happening.
Coming up: “Hard Words”; “While We Are Waiting”; “Going Home and Going home”; “The Choosing of the Purple”; “Keep Coloring”; “The Hope We Have”.
Jeff and Angie Knight 
February 3rd, 2009 at 4:16 pm
Bless you dear one, I understand those feelings. So many times, I said to Eddie, please heal my momma. But, of course he could not do that, only God could.
February 3rd, 2009 at 5:33 pm
My sweet, sweet friend. I’m not making light of the gravity of your telling Wanda’s home going and what you went through, but there was a part of me that had to smile (not laugh, JUST smile) with this post. Please understand, I’m not making light of the situation AT ALL! It just made me think of Miss Prissy in the movie Gone With the Wind. Remember, she said she didn’t “known nothin’ ’bout birthin’ no babies” and was all nervous about being in the situation of having to help Miss Melanie. I hope I didn’t offend you in anyway. It’s just a word picture association my mind made.I’m truly being blessed by your recounting the days up to February 12, 2008. There is comfort to drawan from this for all of us.Love you, my friend.
February 3rd, 2009 at 7:46 pm
Once again Angie my precious friend, I’m in tears reading the expression of your heart from your journey with your Sister.I can well relate to the screaming or yelling that was going on with you… as I stood over the coffin of my 23 yr old baby brother in 1994 laying there unrecognizable to me; tears poured out of my face and there were no words — none that I could speak but I was yelling in my head, LORD PLEASE GET HIM UP! I just didn’t want it to be true.I’m sorry for leaving something this person on your blog. I hope I’ve not crossed the line while sharing my own painful heart. Feel free to delete it.Love you. I’ll return…
February 3rd, 2009 at 9:28 pm
Angie – I am enjoying if that word can be used here…walking this journey with you. We loved Wanda as a member of our family. My heart aches for each member of your family. Please know that we have not forgotten. She is so much a part of all of us. When I was at Mom’s this last time she showed me something that Wanda had made for her. So sweet, so talented, so thoughtful. I am glad that you are sharing this journey with everyone. What an encouragement and reminder that although things may not turn out our way…God is faithful.Love you!
February 3rd, 2009 at 10:06 pm
I’m so happy you have that good man, Jeff:)
February 4th, 2009 at 12:02 am
Hi Angie, I am like you. I walk into a hospital or nursing home and something comes over me. I have not fainted, but have broken down in uncontrolable sobbing~like the time I saw the chest and leg (incisions) of my father-in-law after his tripple bypass…ugh. Or just my grandma in a nursing home.I’ve been missing you.I am glad you are journaling here. Wow.When I lost my brother it was so sudden. So different, but the same if you know what I mean.Love ya bunches!
February 4th, 2009 at 11:54 am
Bless you, friend, for sharing your heart. That <>small<> Bible from your purse that you clung to was still a <>mighty sword<>. The Lord sends comfort in many different ways, just when we need it.
February 4th, 2009 at 3:02 pm
dearest angie, i am touched by how you share your journey with Wanda. She was and is a dear sweet friend to us at Carmel. We have not forgotten her and are truly blessed to have had a chance to get to know her. I myself know the pain of loosing someone very dear to my heart. My son is in heaven with Wanda and our Lord and Savior having the time of their lives. I am excited to know I will see them again one day. Keep the on writing and I’ll keep on reading. love ya Suki P.S. you are so Blessed
February 4th, 2009 at 3:54 pm
Girl, can I just say I love you?Well I do!***hug*** ***hug***
February 5th, 2009 at 12:16 am
Thinking of you especially this month, as you recall so many precious memories, happy and sad. Angie, bless you for sharing such an open heart with all of us. {{hugs}}love you~VickiPS–how does one get a tee-shirt?;-) I just saw Lori’s
February 5th, 2009 at 2:45 am
Hi Angie,Love the new look for your blog! Remember that I am holding your hand as you walk along these paths of last February…I know your faith and I know how much you loved and always will! She will always be a part of our lives.Missed you tonight…Beth was fab!!! Ended with thoughts about death…in particular the ending struggles of our loved ones…you have to hear this, it is amazing and so comforting!Love you!Susan
February 5th, 2009 at 7:05 am
Oh, Angie — I know the raw feelings of someone being so sick and you can’t do a thing, except praying…Love you, my sweet sister…((((hugs))))