A Date with a Preacher

A year of meals shared and truths told went by, and I hadn’t thought much about our relationship until Earl surprised me at supper one evening, “Would you go out with me?”

“Are you crazy?” All I could think about was how terrible I was. How can he like me?

A month later, he asked again, “Will you go out with me?”

Reluctantly I agreed and on a hot July evening, I sat waiting for Earl in the hospital parking lot because I wouldn’t tell him where I lived. My palms were sweaty and when I saw his baby-blue Thunderbird, I caught my breath. I still couldn’t believe I was going on a date with a preacher. (I’d even had my hair done and was wearing the only dress I owned.)

Getting in his car my voice cracked as I said, “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Where are we going?”

“I made reservations at The 91st Bomb Group restaurant on the Memphis airport flight line.” The restaurant reminded me of one my Uncle Don had taken me to when I was eighteen. After dinner, we sat in the lounge and watched the runway and airplane lights as planes took off and landed.

“Have I told you how much I like flying?”

“Yes, that’s why I brought you here. Doesn’t your uncle fly?”

“Yes, he has a Cherokee 180 now. I remember flying over my hometown as a little girl and seeing Momma waving at me from the sidewalk in front of the Candyland. I guess I’ve loved flying ever since. Uncle Don even let me take the controls a few times when I visited him as an adult.”

We were unusually quiet for us on the trip back to the hospital. Earl parked next to my car, turned and asked, “May I kiss you.”

“No!” I can’t kiss a preacher.

In Christ,

Berta

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 A Piper Cherokee 180

Paralyzed

“Berta.”

“Berta.”

My eyelids fluttered in the bright light. Then I saw Earl leaning over me.

I tried to speak, but couldn’t.

Earl explained, “You’re in ICU at Western Baptist Hospital. You had a wreck. Your neck is broken and you’re paralyzed. You have a trach and you’re on a ventilator. You and Kari were…”

“Kari?” I mouthed in panic.

“She’s fine. She had several cuts on her head and a mild concussion. Your sister, Bobbi, is here taking care of her. It was New Year’s Day. Do you remember your dream?”

“Yes.” I had dreamed  that my cousin, Bob Wiley, was going to be in an accident on New Year’s Day on Highway 80. Earl told him about my dream and asked him to stay off 80 that day.

“Bob didn’t stay off Highway 80. Instead, he assisted the paramedics getting you out of the car after the accident.”

Was my dream wrong? No. Bob’s name was Robert Wiley. My maiden name was Roberta Wiley. And we were both there.

 “How long?” Earl read my lips.

“Seven weeks,” he replied as he lifted a limp hand in his and I saw fingers that couldn’t possibly be mine.

“Berta, you wouldn’t believe how many people are praying for you. Even the truck driver calls to check on you.”

I returned home weak and exhausted five months after the accident. I couldn’t move anything but my arms. Not my hands or my fingers. I couldn’t feel anything below my collarbones.

Depressed, I just wanted to be left alone. I withdrew from life.

Though my body could do little, God wasn’t finished molding my earthen vessel. I sat through many Bible studies, sermons and workshops without paying attention – I thought.

Over the years, God provided me with multiple opportunities to serve Him. Hearing His word – no matter my intent – and continued study prepared me to live and breathe as Jesus taught His disciples.

I am still physically paralyzed, but I am not an invalid. I am a spiritually alive child of God through the blood of Jesus.

“(Y)ou, Lord, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand” (Isaiah 64:8 NIV).

“He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus” (Philippians 1:6 NIV).

“Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” (Mathew 28:19 NIV).

In Christ,

Berta

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Photo Courtesy of Flickr 

Choose Life or Death

Photo Courtesy of Flickr

My surgeon looked me in the eye and said, “The infection is in the bone.” He followed with talk about blood test results and “inflammatory markers”.

His words confirmed my fear. The first round of IV antibiotics, though nearly killing me, had only moderately destroyed the bacteria eating away my body.

With mild hesitancy, he spoke of more IV antibiotics. I said, “When can we get started?” Before leaving the clinic, we had surgery scheduled to insert a central IV in my chest the next morning.

It wasn’t until evening that I recognized the choice my doctor had given me. I could have chosen not to treat this infection and my physical body would die. Or, I could choose treatment with newly formulated IV antibiotics that could be very difficult on my body.

This death would usher my spirit into heaven where there would be no more tears. No more pain. My broken earthly body would walk again, and I could dance with Jesus all day long.

To choose death by refusing treatment would relieve me of many responsibilities. My death would also neutralize God’s plan for my life the moment I chose it.

God reminded me of my promise to Him: to tell every person I meet about Jesus. To tell them of His love, grace, mercy and forgiveness for all. From the least to the greatest on earth, all are invited

Next, God reminded me of my blog, Snapshots: Devotions from Life. With a readership around the world and here in the United States, my devotions carry the Word of God boldly to people I will only meet in heaven.

By evening on the second day, I knew God’s plan for my future would not be easy. Overwhelmed by my faithful decision to live for Christ my emotions took over and tears of great sadness and joy streamed from my eyes.

Earl and I covet your prayers. Please pray strength, peace and rest for our bodies, minds, souls and spirits. Pray death to the infection. Pray we have the Joy of the Lord every day.

“I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body. Convinced of this, I know that I will remain, and I will continue with all of you for your progress and joy in the faith, so that through my being with you again your boasting in Christ Jesus will abound on account of me” (Philippians 1:20-26 NIV).

In Christ,

Berta

Friends, please remember to share this devotion? People are being touched around the world for God.

A Most Magnificent Messenger

One morning as I read my Sunday school lesson, it referred to Joni Eareckson Tada calling her accident and subsequent spinal cord injury “A Glorious Intruder.”

I thought, “What would I call my accident and subsequent injury? 

After a few moments of thought, I knew. “My Magnificent Messenger.” The message it brought was a reminder of an unaccepted promise of God.

God would forgive my sins and use me for His glory if I'd only let Him. I confessed sins of my past I’d been too embarrassed to speak about and God began using me to plant seeds of faith in strangers and to encourage faith in believers.

I began this month in tears over unrelenting pain from an infection in a pressure wound. Earl has often taken my hand and encouraged me to pray.

Father God, I ask for strength for us this day. I pray healing from pain and infection, and that we will lean on you as we have in days past. Lord, give us your peace that passes all understanding to sustain us in these days. In Jesus Name, Amen.

For Earl and me, this month has continued as it began, with physical pain and emotional trials.

What would I call my injury today?  “A Most Magnificent Messenger!”

In our Father’s mercy, Earl and I've had a month to pray together in each other’s daily strengths and weaknesses. Answered daily prayers for God’s strength and peace, and our love for each other have held us firm in our faith.

We’ve had many opportunities to share our faith with friends and strangers. We've been blessed through frequent Facebook posts of love, encouragement and prayers. Friends have sent me cards and emails filled with these same sentiments.

“In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God's grace” (Ephesians 1:7 NIV).

In Christ.

Berta

Friends, Remember to share with your friends. People are being blessed around the world for God. I am so thankful to be a broken vessel in the hands of a loving God.