These are also the days when I feel especially grateful that Jesus is a part of my life. And the older I get, the more clarity I have about the impact his life and his sacrifices have meant to me personally. We all praise and recognize Jesus during Easter. We give thanks for his courage and for His unconditional love and then get back to the general business of our daily lives. However, in spite of this change of focus, Jesus is always there when we need Him. He doesn't give up on us just because we forget to spend time with Him. He is ever patient, ever true and ever loving of each of us, the flawed people of this world.
My particular journey with Christ has been lifelong, but became even more real to me a couple of years ago. Life, it would seem, had thrown me a curve ball and, eventually, this would change me forever. I was enjoying the lovely warm weather in August of 2020. While watering my flowers, I slipped on the porch steps and fell, fracturing several ribs. As a health care provider, I knew that there wasn’t much to do for broken ribs, so I didn't seek medical attention right away. However, a few days later, I developed shortness of breath and had my son take me into the ER. I was barely conscious by the time we got to the hospital. It was found that in addition to four fractured ribs, I also had bilateral pneumonia. I was admitted to ICU, placed on a ventilator, and wasn’t expected to live. My family gathered from Oregon and Montana and awaited the end.
Meanwhile, I was unaware of any of this. I was heavily sedated and in my own little world. I was having vivid dreams. Some were about people I knew and some were downright scary. However, the dream that kept recurring was the vision of a bright light and in the center of that light was the silhouette of a man. He was walking ahead of me and every now and then, he would turn around and look at me. He never motioned for me to follow him. He never spoke, but looking at him over and over gave me a sense of peace and relief from the nightmares. My fear was gone, because I knew in my heart that it was Jesus. A week later, I was taken off the ventilator. Most people who have been in my situation are never able to breathe on their own again. But I defied the odds and gradually over the next 24 hours slowly regained consciousness. The visions of the bright light were gone, and the first thing I saw was the beaming face of my youngest son. He was sitting at my bedside, holding my hand. He said, “Mom, you came back!” With the help of Jesus, that was indeed true!
This experience changed my relationship with Christ, so when I was asked to write a piece about Holy Week, I wanted to share this story. I feel that Jesus was instrumental in my recovery and that this strengthened and confirmed my faith in Him. My hope for all of you during this most important week is for you to focus on your faith and place your trust in Jesus.
In His Name,
Our staff is voluntold each week and with grace they share their thoughts.