IS IT NOW? The End of Days!

Let me tell you a little about how I began my road to salvation.  I was christened as an infant at St. Stephens Episcopal Church and spent my childhood growing up in the faith.  However, when I finished high school, I drifted away from my upbringing.  I was later married in a church ceremony at St. Stephens and started a family.  I attended church during those early years very sparingly.  You know the kind of Christian I'm talking about?  Besides on the days my children were christened, Christmas, Easter, and when the priest of my childhood visited were the only times I attented.

In August 1976, tragedy consumed our family.  David, our youngest son who was two at the time was diagnosed with a rare cancer.  My husband and I spent the next twelve months watching our baby, as doctor after doctor poked and prodded, leaving him screaming in pain.  Of course, I prayed constantly for the life of my child during that year—wearing out my first Bible—which was worn, underlined until the pages were falling out.  I turned away from the Lord, when David died the following August. 

I'm not saying that I stopped believing that Jesus Christ died on the Cross for the sins of the world.  I just believed that God hadn't been listening—that God had abandoned my family.  Instead of laying my grief at the feet of my Lord and Savior, I locked my grief deep inside.  My surviving two children became my only comfort; so I became involved in their lives, which was all that kept me from slipping into that dark place where my grief remained buried.  My first act was to become my daughter's assistant Brownie leader, followed by taking over the troop when the leader resigned.  From there I became the cheerleading sponsor, in charge of the end of season pizza parties and trophies for the cheerleading squad and football, or basketball teams, whichever the season happened to be.  When my son was old enough for Cub Scouts, I became his Den Mother.  I went overboard decorating at Christmas time, in an attempt at making the holidays without their little brother more tolerable.  I didn't have time for reading God's word.  I didn't have time for church.  I didn't have time for God!  God always had time for me, but I pushed Him as far from my life as I could.

God in His mercy, sent me another  child—a little boy in need of a mother—a child afflicted with ADHD.  Timmy would keep me young or make me very old, I wasn't sure which.  He was a real handful.  It's not my place to know God's plan.  However, would I have realized how precious a gift children are, if I had not lost a child?  Would I have had the patience with Timmy that he needed?  I don't know.  Many times God's answer to prayers comes in ways we do not understand and sometimes those answers are hard to bear.  God is looking ahead to the bigger picture.  Years later Timmy brought me back to God.  As I lay dying in that ICU, I bargained with God for my life.  In one lucid moment, I like many others who have stared death in the face, calling out to God when all other hope was gone.  My two older children were grown and though they would have grieved; they would have made it without me.  My husband also would have grieved, but would have been able to cope.  Timmy was another matter altogether.  He was only eleven at the time and needed his mother to live.  At that moment when I thought of Timmy's need, I heard the voice of a child; the voice said,"Tell Tim he owes me one."  To this day, I believe that God answered my prayer through the voice of the child who I laid to rest seventeen years earlier.  What happened next was what I believe to be a vision from God.  On the wall I saw a large heart entirely of light.  Suddenly before my eyes, shadows appeared within the heart dimming the brightness of the light.  As the shadows disappeared a voice spoke—not a child this time—not male—not female—a voice indescribable—none like I had ever heard before.  A verse from the Bible comes close to describine the voice I heard in that ICU.

Revelation 1:15 - And his feet like unto fine brass, as if they burned in a furnace; and his voice as the sound of many waters.

The "Sound of Many Waters." The voice said, "OPEN THE DOORS."  I suddenly understood that Jesus was knocking on the locked doors of my heart asking to enter.  The darkened shadows were sins that were enveloping my heart covering the light of my soul.  I asked Jesus to come into my heart that night and to forgive my sins, and this time, I really meant the words I spoke.  In that same moment the shadows lifted and the heart in my vision became a clear pure light—almost blinding.  Just as the heart disappeared from my sight, a warmth enveloped my entire being.  Within my soul I felt an all consuming peace.  this peace I found surpasses all understanding.  I knew in that moment that I wasn't going to die, I was going to live—and I was going to live for Jesus.  The following morning, I told my family about my vision.  I told them that I wasn't going to die because Jesus had healed my body.  I guess you can imagine the looks I got from my loved ones.  I overheard someone say.  "It must be all the medication she is being given that caused these hallucinations."  However, seven days later the doctor confirmed my diagnosis, and released me to a step-down unit.  Then in a few days I was released to go home.  Even the skeptics had to admit that it was nothing short of a miracle that I lived.  There was one person who believed wholeheartedly what I said was the truth.  My best friend from high school had prayed for my healing.  When she came to visit me the following day, I told her about my vision.  She told me at church the night before, the visiting pastor spoke of the door of someone's heart was being opened and the Lord would be taking up residency in a brand new saved heart.  That heart was mine and so I don't think I have to tell you who I dedicated this Bible Study to—my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, the Light of my heart. 

JESUS is the wind beneath my wings!