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”.