Yesterday afternoon I went to the hospital to visit with a lady who attends our church. Okay, to be more accurate, she listens to our church services on a special receiver because she can’t make it out of the house very well. She’s 83 and somewhat frail and doesn’t drive and lives alone in an apartment.
She was at the hospital for surgery because she fell and broke her femur. The surgery was to determine whether or not a rod inserted into the bone would help or not, and if it would help, to complete the procedure. I ached just thinking about it. But as she was laying in the bed and we were talking, she said she needed to tell me what happened.
“I got up about 3:00 in the morning to go to the bathroom. As I was walking back to the bed, something didn’t feel right I was dizzy or something. I fell to the ground and ended up landing on my back.
I started to yell for help. I yelled and yelled but no one came.
My cabinet has metal doors. I reached out for my cane and started hitting the doors.
I was frantic.
And then I thought of a verse. ‘You will keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you.’ So I just started saying that verse over and over. And I calmed down.
And then I knew what to do. I picked up my nightgown and inched toward my nightstand. It was about the length of this hospital bed away.
It took a lot of inching.
When I got close I took my cane and knocked my phone down.
I called 9-1-1. And then I called Carol and told her that the emergency people were coming.”
Edna–and her daughter Carol–agree that she is a nervous person, fearful. And they both agree that when she called 9-1-1 and when she called Carol, she was completely calm. And these calls were about 3 hours after she fell.
We talked a bit longer, aware that the surgery was drawing near. We talked about God and the pain and the calmness. And then she looked up at me:
“He loves me.”
Eighty-three years old. A fall. A broken bone. A verse about peace. Peace. And the clear belief that the creator of the universe loves her.
And as I looked into her clear eyes, mind not yet clouded by the anesthetic, I saw no reason to argue at all.
“Yes, He does.”
And people wonder why I thank them when I talk with them in the hospital.
And the surgery went fine. She’ll be out of rehab in about three months.
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