Men of One Accord

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Archive for the month “September, 2012”

VISITORS!

VISITORS

In my post “A Son Off the Edge” I wrote about a visitor I had when I was in the ICU, I called her a nurse. My wife had never heard this story before till she read it before I posted it and she said the nurse was an angel.

Anthony Baker commented with his story about a visitor he had when he was in an ER for some repair work. I ask him if it might have been the same nurse? I will post both stories and ask you to please comment on what you think? I would also like for everyone who has a similar story to please add it to this post. If you know of someone who has a similar story please send them here to add their story.

Thank-you!

James’ story,

A day or so later I was awaken in ICU by a nurse. I could not make out her features for my eyes could not focus yet. She was soft-spoken and gentle for she came to bathe me. She was dressed in white and had a bit of a glow to her and the words she spoke I shall never forget. To this day I have never told anyone about what she said to me, for some unknown reason, I shall today.

As she washed away all the dried blood and dirt these are Her words, “God wants you know He still loves you. He said to tell you He is going to take back what is His. He wants to heal you right now, He will put your toes back on. He will stop the pain and you can get up right now and walk out of here. All you have to do is love Him. But you are not going to do that He said for you are a strong-willed one and a fighter. You will walk and run again and your body will be as strong as it has ever been. God is going to let you lose everything even the way you think. For you will no longer be able to think and solve the problems in the manner you do now. Your body is going to know pain all the days of your life.” She left the room and I have never seen or heard of her again. Every word of what she said to me came true.

Anthony’s story,

When I was laying (lying?) on a stainless steel emergency room table having my face sewn back on after inhaling the horn of a flipped-over ’67 fastback Mustang, a “nurse” whom I could not see stayed with me and held my hand. No one remembered her being there but me.

I have to add a little to that story, James. I was so messed up that my mother, a career medical professional, could not stay in the room with me – her own son. I hurt so badly because the nerve damage wouldn’t permit any pain-killing shots to work – everything just drained down my throat, while I felt every stitch. My face was so swollen I couldn’t see a thing.

Then this “person” came up beside me (“I’ll send a Comforter”), spoke with a female voice (because I am sure a male voice wouldn’t have been as comforting), and said, “Whenever it hurts, just squeeze my hand. I’ll stay here with you.” James, I was a martial artist who could break boards with those hands. I must have squeezed hard enough to break every bone in “her” hand. Yet, I was never alone. Praise God, I was never alone.

Later, I wanted to find this “nurse,” or whatever. Somebody said that they think they saw a candystriper (volunteer) that day, but they weren’t sure. Nobody knew who it was that held my hand. Now seriously, James. This was a major hospital ER. Nobody just walks in without anybody having a clue who the person is.

Yes, God blessed us.

Anthony

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A Son Off the Edge

A Son Off the Edge

On April 20, 1987 I was one of the best in my field, that morning at 6:05 AM was the end to a beginning. On the outside I looked like I had it all together, but I was a mess. I had a house, wife, two children, dog, cars and a motorcycle. The problem was I smoked pot, and drank. I hid it from the world outside of my home. I had a father that prayed for me for 30 years for the Lord to keep me safe and make me prosper. That is what the Lord did, because He loved my Dad so much. As a result I would fall deeper and deeper into sin the more I prospered. The problem was I was creating a path of destruction as ugly and wide as a category 5 hurricane. But one day Dad changed his prayer; “Lord do whatever it takes to break my son. Take everything he has, break his body do whatever it takes to bring him to You. Jesus please do not let my son lose his life without falling in love with You.”

April 20, 1987, 6:05 AM I was sitting on my motorcycle in the middle of an intersection waiting for it to clear to make a left turn. I watched a car blow through the stop aimed at my left side. I could have gotten out-of-the-way but there was no place to escape to. The car smashed into me on my left side. The force of the collision propelled me off my bike like a pool ball and I impacted head first into the windshield of that car cracking my helmet and embedding it with glass. I watched my bike shoot down the road on its side another 300 yards and smash into the back of a second car. I rolled off the hood of the car and bounced along the pavement and came to a rest on my back. I started to try to get up but someone grabbed me by the helmet and held me down saying, “You are hurt bad don’t move.” That is when the first wave of pain registered in my mind my body went into shock. I watched myself as my breathing stopped and all the pain disappeared.

My dad was driving my grandmother somewhere at the time of my bike wreck some 1600 miles away. The Holy Spirit came upon my dad and told him I was in trouble, so he pulled the car over. He stopped the car and he and my grandmother began to pray that prayer in one accord for me.

My accident took place less than a quarter of a mile from a fire station that had paramedics. It took the paramedics less than two minutes to arrive at the scene. I was dressed in full leathers and I watched them cut them off along with every other piece of clothing I had on. I watched as they said he has no heart beat. I watched as they put the paddles to me and shocked me back to their world. The pain was so intense I wanted to escape it and I did by giving up. The paramedics did not give up they hit me two more times with the paddles and got me stabilized for transport to the hospital. Every time the paramedics would hit me with the paddles I would come back to a full awake state and these men would ask me questions, dumb questions. Like do you know where you are? What is your name? Do you know what time it is? I could see a very large clock, so I told them the time and it was right which amazed them. What I did not tell them every time I was out I heard a voice say, “It is not your time go back.” There is so much more that happened on the road that day but I am leaving it out, for it would not change the outcome. To this day I remember every little detail that happened on that road April 20, 1987, at 6:05 to 7:12AM.

April 20, 1987, 7:23AM I arrived at the hospital.

Now the hospital they took me to was one of the best trauma wards in the nation. The things that they do to a person there is like something out of a horror movie. People hiding behind mask, surgical gowns, and rubber gloves all touching, poking, and sticking things into you. Asking where does it hurt or does that hurt? Do you know where you are? How many fingers? What time is it? These masked masters of torment enjoyed placing tubes in anyplace they found an opening if no opening was to be found they made one. At some point they grew weary of the torture they were inflecting and gave me some drugs for pain. The drugs had little effect on the pain the clock faded away, and the examination continued with x-rays cat-scans, and anything else they could come up with. The short list of damage is: crushed left foot, of which they would remove my little toe and most of the next one, all the bones between my ankle and toes had compound fractures and some crushing, twisted left knee, three broken ribs on my left side, sprained and bruised left elbow, bruised kidney, concussion, and a compressed fracture of one of my vertebra in my back.

They had to keep me awake because of the concussion but also I was going to need surgery on my foot. As for my back that surgeon said he was not going to operate on my back. Because everything had fallen into place and he could not have put it in place any better. What he was going to do is have a special brace made to keep my back from moving. Later that day I did go into surgery for my foot. I have no idea how long I was in surgery, for they were going to put many miles of stitches in it, rebuild it, and place a cast upon it, minus some parts.

A day or so later I was awaken in ICU by a nurse. I could not make out her features for my eyes had not learn to focus yet. She was soft-spoken and gentle for she came to bathe me. She was dressed in white and had a bit of a glow to her and the words she spoke I shall never forget. To this day I have never told anyone about what she said to me, for some unknown reason, I shall today.

As she washed away all the dried blood and dirt these are Her words, “God wants you know He still loves you. He said to tell you He is going to take back what is His. He wants to heal you right now, He will put your toes back on. He will stop the pain and you can get up right now and walk out of here. All you have to do is love Him. But you are not going to do that He said for you are a strong-willed one and a fighter. You will walk and run again and your body will be as strong as it has ever been. God is going to let you lose everything even the way you think. For you will no longer be able to think and solve the problems in the manner you do now. Your body is going to know pain all the days of your life.” She left the room and I have never seen or heard of her again.

She was right, in five days I left the hospital. In six weeks the cast came off my foot. In a matter of days I was walking again without crutches. In a few more days I was running not a little but miles, but there was the pain. Pain that drove me to anger and more drugs. Pain that made me more hateful and not let me think clearly. Pain that fueled my hatred which drove my then wife to the arms of another and pushed my children away. Pain, anger, hatred, jealousy, and drugs was causing my world to fall apart and nothing I could do to stop it. By February 23, 1989 I had managed to destroy everything in my life. I was alone.

February 23, 1989 I sat alone on a curb in front of a Thrifty Drug Store homeless. I was in a state of mind that was dangerous. I was about ready to kill someone, kill my self, or both. I sat there and for some reason I cried out to God, “God! Can You save me now?” Within a few minutes a blue Toyota van pulled up. The couple inside asked, “Do want to go to church with us?” So I got in the van. They took me to church with them that Thursday night a church like I have never been to before.

The music had already started when we walked in, the couple disappeared into their seats. I stood in the back of the church with my back against the wall to hold me up. The Spirit of the Lord was so strong in that room all I could do was cry. As the music played the Lord lay bare my life and began to x-ray my soul. The ushers did not bother me they let me stand there as if they knew God was doing surgery on my heart. I cannot tell you what the songs were, I cannot tell you what the pastor said, all I could do was stand there and cry. After the pastor had spoken and the invitation was given I could not even walk to the front of the church. The couple came and found me and never said a word they just helped me make that walk. A pastor was there and he prayed with me I do not know if I even prayed. Then there were people all wanting to know me and care for me. They loved me before they even knew me and they pulled me into their church. I became their brother that February 23, 1989.

Three things that never happen again after that night; I never abused drugs again, I never saw that couple again,and I was never alone again. The people of that church were always close at hand and they taught me how to pray, study, be a disciple, and love Jesus! AMEN!

A man of the world named Jim died that night, but a new child named James was born In Christ Jesus.

February 23, 1989 was the Beginning with  No End.

AMEN!

There is a question that Jon asked that struck me I want to give the answer to it the way my Dad did here on earth. How can I pray for my child who is going off the edge? I will answer it in my next post titled: “A Son Off the Edge”. It is my testimony, James

300 words a day

I’ve been writing here for a long time. There are lot’s of questions I answered. But there isn’t any index to those questions and answers. So I’m going to start working on that. On Fridays, from time to time, I’ll offer a list of the kinds of questions I’m hearing from people, and some of the posts I’ve written that are relevant. I’ll eventually gather these all on a page on 300. Let me know what you think and what questions I should be answering for you.

***

I feel like I need to fix myself before I come to God:

Do you know the dull feeling the morning after success: The morning after

I used to pray but don’t see the value right now: How can I start praying again

Cleaning the attic like confessing sin:

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