Friday, January 18, 2019
“I don’t mind telling you about myself,” Al said, “I came close to getting killed, and the results left me with pretty bad headaches and nightmares. Close to a year ago I collapsed, and the doctors found a growth in the back of my brain. They did surgery and told me that my future was uncertain; the growth might never grow again or it could come back.”
Al continued, “I went a few weeks without symptoms. And, I really thought that the headaches and dreams were over. But, they’re not. I can live with what is going on. It might sound strange to some people, probably not you, but, I’m okay with whatever happens. The Lord is in control of my life and I know that.”
He went on, “I haven’t told anybody what I’m about to tell you. On my way here, I think I met an angel. Her name was Edith, and she was one of the sweetest old ladies I ever met. We traveled together for a while and she told me some pretty incredible things. She told me that God wanted to use me in a very wonderful way and she really encouraged me. We had coffee at one of the stops and then she said she had to meet her family and walked away. The funny thing was, she said she was walking around the corner and down the street. When we first got out of the bus, I remember looking around the coffee shop and there were no houses down the street. Just the coffee shop, gas station and a couple of old, abandoned clap-board buildings.”
Pastor Hank said, “That is an incredible story. God must have His hand of guidance on you. I don’t understand what this little town has to do with any of it. But, what I know isn’t that important. It’s what God has planned that is vital. Now, as far as an angel is concerned, that is fascinating. I’ve heard of people who believe they witnessed or talked with an angel. What made you think Edith was an angel?” Al said, “That’s simple. She knew things about me that nobody knew. She spoke with an authority that I’ve never heard before. And, I knew in my soul that there was something strangely wonderful about her.”
Friday, January 4, 2019
Sometime in the night, when the stillness is only interrupted by her nocturnal creatures, flashes of light, a child vanishing in a red mist, and infant cries, sent Al falling off his chair. As he tumbled to the floor, he hit his head on the stand, sending his reading lamp crashing down. As he fought away the voices and the vanishing child, he placed his hand on his forehead, the warm blood covered his cupped hand.
Startled by the noise, Gracie was up the stairs and kneeling over him. “Dear God,” she said, “What happened? Did you have one of your nightmares?” With his hand on his forehead Gracie went to the bathroom and brought a wet cloth. She pulled his hand away placing the cool wet cloth to his head. After a minute she said, “Better let me take a look, you might need a couple of stitches.” Gently moving Al’s hand Gracie said, “I think I should call Doc Sam. You ought to have some stitches” “No Gracie,” Al said, “After it stops bleeding just put a couple of butterfly bandages on it. I’m not going to the doctor.”
By daylight they had finished a pot of coffee. Gracie was trying to convince Al to go downstate and see a doctor. She had told him that the general practice doctor wouldn’t be able to help him. Near dawn he agreed that if things didn’t get better, he would travel downstate and see a specialist. She tried to pin him down to a specific date when he would call and make an appointment. She’d have to be content with his word that if things didn’t get better, he would make an appointment.