Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Safe in His Arms

Many of you have heard the story of how my brother's death forever changed my life.  The story of how God took my shattered heart and began to put the pieces back together again.  The following is a story that my Mom wrote about the experience.  May it serve as a reminder to pray that others might find Jesus.  Prayer does work.  Thanks Mama for not giving up on me.

SAFE IN HIS ARMS


Although raised in church, I did not develop my own personal relationship with Jesus until I was in my early forties.  I like to refer to the story of the man who hit the mule over the head with a 2x4 to get his attention.  In 1995, as a 43-year-old widow, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.  During  the following year, I had a mastectomy, chemotherapy, two attempts at breast reconstruction, a deadly staph infection and a chronic wound infection.  I always said that God allowed this to get my attention, for it was during this year I reached out to Him (another miracle - another story).

At the time, I had a 20 year career working for a major company.  Although I was making good money, the illness and workplace stress was taking a toll.  I was constantly tired and relied daily on the power of prayer to handle the stress at work.  In December, 1997, the Lord told me to quit my job.  In order to do this, and not knowing why, I had to forego hopes of a future pension and live on only a widow’s annuity.  After prayer and consideration, I took the leap and left my job in January, 1998.

My three children were grown by this time and, therefore, had not been raised in a Christian environment.  However, during the previous few years my daily prayers always included fervent pleas for each of my children’s salvation.  In January, 1998, the Lord gave me a word that my daughter, age 22, would be saved.  The following attests to how this came about and to the circumstances by which I know my oldest son, Bob, is now in heaven.

In 1995, when Bob was 24, he became the father (out of wedlock) of my precious grandson.  When the mother began using meth, he took the child and received sole custody through the court system.  I couldn’t have been prouder of the job he was doing as a single parent.  No child could have received more love and attention than little Josh was getting from his father.  The only thing missing was the inclusion of God in their lives. 

Early in 1998, during one of Bob’s frequent visits, I again said something to him about trusting in the Lord.  He said, “Mom, you have no idea how much I think about it.  I’m getting there.  Just be patient.”  Trying not to interfere and to let the Lord work in His own way, I didn’t say anything else.  I just continued to pray daily for these children of mine.

Around 2:30 PM on March 4, 1998, I received the phone call parents live in fear of.  My daughter, who was extremely close to her brother, was screaming hysterically into the phone.  She was so upset her words were unintelligible.  A woman finally took the phone from her and said, “There’s been a terrible car accident with massive injuries,” and gave me the location.  My daughter got back on the phone and screamed, “Bob’s hurt really bad.” 

I jumped in my car and sped to the scene of the accident.  The entire way, thinking my daughter and grandson had all been in the car, I just kept repeating, “God, please save my children.”  As I went around a corner, about 2 miles from the accident, a tremendous peace overcame me.  It was as if God was saying, “Everything is okay now.”  The peace was so overwhelming that I no longer felt the need to plead with God for their safety.  Although I kept repeating the words, the burning pain seemed to be gone.

When I got as close to the scene as the officers allowed, I was told my grandson (then age 2) was taken to Children’s Mercy, the officers would bring my daughter to me, and they had not yet gotten my son out of the car.   I was told to take my daughter and go to Children’s Mercy and see to my grandson while they continued working on my son.  When my daughter arrived, I discovered that she had been in her car following Bob and witnessed the accident as a reckless driver, going almost 60 mph, had smashed into his driver’s side door.

At Children’s Mercy the nursing staff and the chaplain all greeted me.  Although Josh was in shock and had been covered with blood (later told it was his dad’s), he had received nothing more than a scratch on his neck.  We waited there until the phone call was received from NKC Hospital.  “I’m sorry, we did all we could to save your son but his injuries were too severe to revive him.”  It sounded like something out of a television show.  The nursing staff, my daughter and I, with Josh in my arms, all joined hands while the chaplain prayed.

The next few days were clouded with funeral arrangements and worries over how I could raise this small child at my age, alone, and being still fatigued from my previous illnesses.  My biggest fear, however, was that Bob was not in Heaven because he was still “thinking about it.”  I remembered the peace I had felt the day of the accident and hoped God was trying to tell me all was okay and He had Bob in his arms right now.  I also was told Bob had called someone two weeks earlier to ask how to be saved.  I still had nagging doubts, though, and I prayed constantly, many times a day, using the following words, “Lord, I pray that Bob is safe in Your arms.”

This so plagued me that a couple of weeks later, I expressed my fears to my aunt, who was a real prayer warrior and frequently received miracles through prayer.  The next morning she called me.  “Guess what!  I said a little prayer before I went to bed and asked God to let you know whether Bob was in Heaven.  This morning I awoke humming a tune.  I hummed this song all morning and yet couldn’t recognize the song.  It was something I remembered from long ago but couldn’t place the words, only the music.  Finally it came to me.  The name of it was “Safe in the Arms of Jesus.”’ Although I had told no one, these were the exact words I had used in my prayers!  I knew I finally had my answer.

Because I followed the Lord’s leading and had quit my job six weeks prior to the accident, I was able to be a stay at home “mom.”  To further add to these miracles, my daughter, so traumatized by witnessing the accident which killed her brother, reached out in her grief and recurrent nightmares and came to know the Lord in July of that same year.

Remember:
Romans 8:28:  And we know that all things work together for good for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose.





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