Sometimes something can happen that I can’t write down until enough time has passed that my fingers don’t shake or tears don’t fall on my keyboard. One of those somethings happened at the end of last month.
It was on a Wednesday early in the morning. At first, it seemed to be like any other Wednesday for us. We get up, have our coffee, play Wordle, and Connections, talk about our day, and maybe plan to go to the grocery store, will it be Walmart? Aldis? Have breakfast, watch a little news and weather on the TV. Coffee was the only thing that happened this particular morning.
Diane and I finished our coffee, I went upstairs to my office and spent some time at my computer. Diane took a shower. Not much time later I came back downstairs and dressed for the day, then went and sat down in the living room.
I was staring at my phone when I looked at Diane in the chair across the room. I could tell something was wrong. She was very pale.
“I don’t feel right” was all she said. Then she ran to the bathroom, barely had time to lift the toilet lid, and threw up. This was the second trip to the bathroom, the second of many in the next half hour. She had nothing left in her stomach but continued to heave.
“My heart is racing, it feels very strange,” she said. Something told me to get our blood pressure monitor and check hers. I did and the monitor could not read it, but it could read her heart rate. It was 140 beats a minute. Not good, not good at all.
“I am taking you to the Emergency Room, now.”
We put on our coats, grabbed her purse, my wallet, and keys then headed out the door. Five minutes later we were at the entrance to the ER, Diane got out of the car, and I started to park when I saw she could not walk in by herself. I jumped out of the car, took her arm and as I helped her through the door, I announced to the front desk,
“I think my wife is having a heart attack!”
Those words caused an immediate reaction. A wheelchair appeared, and a young lady in purple pushing it, Diane was seated, I was told to check her in and she disappeared down the hall. I had seen that happen before. Now it was happening again.
I provided IDs and insurance cards and signed the necessary paperwork. I slowly walked to the waiting room, expecting a long wait.
I sat there for a while, praying. After a few minutes, I called my dad, and let him know what was going on. We talked for a few minutes, I promised to keep him informed. Then I texted our kids. Jeri called me back. Jeri is an RN II, not currently practicing, but very knowledgeable about this kind of thing. There was not much I could tell her, or her me. I promised to keep her in the loop as well. Then Joel our son called and I told him where I was and where his Mom was. It was a short call.
There was nothing else I could do but sit, pray, and try to be calm. I was alone but I didn’t feel alone.
About half an hour passed before a nurse came out to get me. I walked back to the room where I found Diane in bed, connected to a lot of tubes and wires. A beeping telemetry monitor next to her.
The nurse told me Diane was in AFIB. I noticed that the monitor had a green graph on the scope labeled AFIB. The number 104 is next to it. I stared at that number and watched it drop to 99, a good sign, I hoped.
I received an explanation of what was happening and a definition of AFIB.
Anyone who has made an emergency trip to the hospital can figure out how the rest of our day went. I sat there, while Diane was poked and prodded, fluids and meds flowing into her, all good care by the way. The machine beeped while we waited for the AFIB number on the screen to reduce and go away. After about three hours it did. I was told that Diane Converted. I, being the wise guy I am, asked to what? Catholicism? That brought a laugh from everyone in the room.
I stayed around for a few hours, now and then talking on the phone to Jeri, or Joel. Jeri had a lot of questions and wanted to talk to either a doctor or the head nurse on duty. She insisted on doing that and she got her way. I left for home and grabbed a sandwich to bring back, and to pick up Diane’s Kindle. About nine that night she was admitted to the hospital for observation and an EKG would be performed the next day.
After she was admitted, I told Diane and Jerry, her very competent night nurse, that I was dead on my feet and was ready to go home.
I did just that.
It was only after I walked through the front door that it all hit me. I thought I could have lost Diane. She has been my best friend for the last fifty-two years. I almost lost her 40 years earlier, and was this, what seemed to be a close call, worse? This unexpected storm did get to me.
I went upstairs to my office, to sit and unwind. I pulled one of my devotional books off its shelf. I turned to that day’s date, Feb 26th, and read these words. They were just what I needed that day, a very emotionally stormy day.
It is a very instructive vignette in the life of Jesus and his disciples, recorded for us in Mark 6:45—52. Jesus has sent his disciples across the Sea of Galilee to Bethsaida. They have encountered an impossible headwind and angry seas. If you look at the time clues in the larger passage, you can see they have been rowing for about eight hours. They are in a situation that seems impossible, exhausting, frustrating, and potentially dangerous. They are far beyond their strength and ability. As you read the passage, you have to ask yourself why Jesus would ever want his disciples in this kind of difficulty. They’re not in this mess because they’ve been disobedient, arrogant, or unwise, but because they have obeyed Jesus.
Jesus sees that his disciples are in this exhausting and dangerous situation, and he sets out and begins to walk across the sea. Yes, you read it right: he walks across the sea. Now, the moment he begins to take this walk, you are confronted with two things. The first is the fact that Jesus of Nazareth is the Lord God almighty because no other human being could do what he is doing. But there is a second important thing to observe. The minute he begins to take the walk, you know what he has in mind. If all Jesus wants to do is relieve the difficulty, he wouldn’t have to take the walk. All he would need to do is say a prayer from the shore and the wind would cease. He takes the walk because he is not after the difficulty. He is after the men in the middle of the difficulty. He is working to change everything they think about themselves and their lives. Standing next to the boat as the wind still blows and the waves still crash, he says: “It is I. Do not be afraid.” He is taking one of the names of God. He is saying the “I am” is with them, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the One on whom all the covenant promises rest. They can't be alone because their existence has been invaded by the grace and glory of the I am.
Why did Jesus send his disciples into that storm? He did it for the same reason he sometimes sends you into storms—because he knows that sometimes you need the storm to be able to see the glory. For the believer, peace is not to be found in ease of life. Real peace is only ever found in the presence, power, and grace of the Savior, the King, the Lamb, the I am. That peace is yours even when the storms of life take you beyond your natural ability, wisdom, and strength. You can live with hope and courage in the middle of what once would have produced discouragement and fear because you know you are never alone. The I am inhabits all situations, relationships, and locations by his grace. He is in you. He is with you. He is for you. He is your hope.
From New Morning Miracles, Paul David Tripp.
Diane’s EKG, the next day, showed all was normal with her heart. She stayed in the hospital until late that day, there was a lot going on with other patients but we both were, well, patient. Diane is now on heart medication but doing very well.
Yes, Jesus was and still is my hope. He is the Great I Am. That day at times, I felt poor and powerless, but Jesus brought both of us through the storm.
Diane and I want to thank the nurses, doctors, and all the staff, at the Galax Twin County Hospital. They took very good care of her. It is a good small-town hospital where the people who work there all have big hearts.
Derrick.