“You have to get over here now! He can’t breathe! We need to get him to the hospital!” Words you NEVER want to hear about a parent ever, but especially in their 60’s. Covid had grabbed both of my parents and it turned into pneumonia. The bad part is that my dad had spent a night in the hospital and was sent home with oxygen. So, here’s what happened:
I’m coming home from Memphis and on my way, my brother Adam calls and says he’s taking Dad to the hospital. So I tell him I’ll meet him there so his wife can stay with mom. Adam and I, with the help of an old friend named Wendy Sewell, help get him in and settled. They eventually get him admitted and won’t let us in because of covid. The next morning, I’m thinking about what to do. I’m scared. Then I think about the verse that says to come to God with a child-like faith. So I think of my children.
So I text 2 of my daughters with this: “I need you to make me a promise. Promise me that you will pray out loud where you can hear yourself say the words. I need you to pray for your healing (one of my daughters had covid) and for those you love.” One of my daughters forgot. Haha. My 19-year-old didn’t forget. When I asked and she replied yes, I told her that her Papu was going home from the hospital.
That was the first time he went into the hospital. The second time it was a little different. My brother and I try to get him to the car, and he didn’t have the strength to go 10 feet. We have to call an ambulance. Once he’s in, the word gets out and the prayers begin. We get word that a large group gathering will take place at someone’s home. There is a group of people that convene outside the hospital and go on Facebook live and pray for my Dad and one of his elders that was in the same hospital. There were hundreds of people everywhere praying for this man. That was Monday and Tuesday.
On Wednesday he had continued to decline. By the end of that day, I felt very hopeless and full of despair. I kept it to myself, other than my conversations with my wife. I had become one of the “strong ones” for my family. So I had to keep being strong around them and for them. But once alone, the despair and emotional wreckage unfolded. I had to pull over while driving one night because I just couldn’t see through tears. By Wednesday night, I had begun to think of how life was going to take place with our Dad gone. I thought of all the things that were going to be very different.
The next morning something hit me. I wondered why I had felt so hopeless when I knew that there were hundreds of people praying for Dad. ALMOST AUDIBLY, God made two statements to me. 1- “You asked your daughters to do something that you haven’t done yourself” (pray out loud, not just in my heart, spirit, or some other froo-froo word). 2- “You feel hopeless because you are leaning on the prayers of others.” WOW!
He was right. I felt like they had it covered, but it didn’t fix my despair. So I said “Ok!” I began to talk to God out loud. I asked for 20 more years but would be ok with 15. But I needed at least 15. I felt like God started bringing up me being in some sort of ministry again. I thought that was a strange time to bring that up. So I said, “Then I need 15 more years. He’s been my guide most of my life. I have a very good pastor, but I need Dad too.” No, I was not negotiating with God. God doesn’t do that. But I was pleading with him.
This took place between 9:30am and 10am. Talking to God out loud so that I could hear myself say the words. For some reason, this was very important to God. Sometime between 10:30am and 11:45am, the nurse at Dad’s side called my sister-in-law, who had been our medical liaison through this journey. The nurse said that his oxygen levels had increased without manually increasing the intensity for the first time since he arrived at the hospital. Then about 30 minutes later, the levels went up again. Then by the next morning, they went up again! W-W-W-WOW! It worked. He spoke. I listened. He listened. He chose to act in accordance with my, and many others’, requests. I was a bit dumbfounded. Not that prayer worked, I’ve always known prayer worked. But that this interaction seemed so specific and purposeful.
Do I think it was my prayer that did it? Nope. That would be very arrogant and very NOT God-like. Do I think God was trying to get my attention? Yep. No Doubt. Dad is still in the hospital and if God decides to fully heal him, it will be because of the hundreds of prayers, the doctors, all the nurses, Erin Grainger, Wendy Sewell, the drug Baricitinib, Dad’s willingness to fight, and an enormous love between two love birds that married when they were 18 years old. In fact, of all of my brothers, their wives, and my wife, I contributed the least. But make no mistake, God knew His timing would get my attention. And it did.
One thing that has stood out so far is the stoic steadfast approach that Dad has had through all of this. It is as if he never once questioned the fact that he was coming home to us, and that God would heal him. He was never shaken too strongly. He knew something the rest of us weren’t sure we were convinced of. He knew that when everything around him was shaken, he was glad he put his faith in Jesus. He had seen him be faithful through generations. He’d seen joy in chaos. He’d had peace, at times, that made no sense. He knew that his lack of strength only meant more strength for God. He knew that God had never let him down. So why would God fail him now?
He Won’t.
“Rain came and wind blew
But my house was built on you
And I’m safe with you
I’m going to make it through.”
For me, the lesson learned is that you can’t rely only on the prayers of others. You must join them and also pray. Pray out loud. Love out loud. Live out loud. And if God has never failed you before, why would he start now?
Stay Classy GP (God’s People)… and listen to this song!
Grainger
