2. Introduction to Fear
The summer before my sophomore year of high school, my life was irrevocably changed forever. I think the actual date was sometime in mid-August 1990 but I’m still a little foggy on that. I just know that it was about 10 days before school started and I had been playing my violin with a school string quartet at a summer festival in downtown Mount Clemens, Michigan. It was a bright sunny day, hot and humid as usual. We’d come home in the early afternoon and I went over to see my dad at work.
We lived next door to my paternal grandparents and Dad was the 4th generation rose grower and manager at the family rose greenhouses there. It was a great lifestyle that was much like farming. They cut the roses twice a day every day, all year long and all of us worked there at one time or another as we grew up. Dad was the oldest of six children and I was blessed to be raised by my parents alongside my aunts and uncles with a near-constant open door policy to Papa and Grandma's house. I have extremely happy memories of that time in my life. Besides, having my parents on-site at all times was pretty cool, unlike most of my other friends' experiences. So, on this particular hot and sweaty day, I was headed over to see Dad and one of his employees, Bill*, to tell them all about the concert we’d played.
When I was done visiting them, I cut through the connecting yards between our two houses in front of the in-ground pool's fence. I decided I’d be a good daughter and get the mail which had just arrived. Our mailbox was located across the street from our house and the speed limit on our street was 45 mph even though residences lined both sides of the street. It was more like a country road in a city setting and was a driver's short cut to the county offices and jail a few miles to the northeast.
I opened our mailbox door and took out the pile of bills, letters and junk mail. Turning around to re-cross the road to our driveway, I looked both ways. I promise you, I truly did look both ways. A large bulldozer was driving down the road from my right and I paused to let him pass. I looked into the driver’s eyes. They were a startling blue and my 14-year-old mind thought, “hmm, he’s cute.” Looking down at the mail in my hands, I stepped out into the street. And that’s the last thing I remember.
The following account is from my parents’ perspective and from stories I heard immediately following that day.
Mom: April and I heard the squealing brakes and looked out toward the road. At first it looked like an elderly gentleman driving a station wagon had simply skidded off the road and nearly hit a large tree in our front yard. But the man got out of the car and moved toward the road while at the same time our friend, Bill, rushed in that direction from the greenhouse next door. They went straight to the ditch and began kneeling over something or someone. I headed out to see what had happened, as did my husband from the greenhouses next door.
Dad: Bill, my employee and friend, and I both heard a loud thump and the sound of a car going off the road. Running out of the greenhouses, Bill was ahead of me. At the edge of the pool fence, he turned back to me and shouted "call 911, I think it's Angel". So, I turned and ran back to the office telephone. I made the call quickly and ran back out to the yard across the street from our house where Bill and my wife, Gail, were kneeling around Angel.
Mom: Angel was lying in the ditch having convulsions. Someone (other neighbors were gathering by now) had already called an ambulance, so we knelt over Angel and began to pray. I recalled the Biblical account of Elijah lying across the body of the widow woman's dead son and I stretched myself out, over and above Angel. (I Kings 17:21-22) Of course, I was careful not to put any weight onto her to avoid adding to her injuries. I prayed in tongues, and I heard my husband and our friend praying aloud at the same time.
Dad: Bill later told me that when he got to my daughter, he could hear the "death rattle" he has heard many times before. He was praying fervently, arresting the spirit of death surrounding Angel. My wife, was hovering over her praying in the Spirit and I heard myself praying over my oldest daughter using medical terms I did not know or understand and have never used since. I held her head and watched the convulsions slow, then cease as the lump on her temple diminished before my very eyes.
Mom: When the ambulance came, in about 3 minutes or so, Angel seemed more quieted and the convulsions had stopped completely. The large half-a-grapefruit size knot at her temple had gone down visibly as we had been praying. She was placed in the ambulance and I rode along. During the ride, they asked Angel if she knew her name, and the answer was slow in coming. They asked her if she knew what day it was, and she ventured a wrong guess. They asked who the president was, and she was unsure. When we arrived at the hospital, she was taken for a CAT scan and x-rays, and I was allowed back into the room afterwards while they scrubbed the gravel and debris from the roadside out of her thigh and shoulder. I remember the emergency room nurse was very reassuring, and he held Angel (a small and thin 14 year old) in his arms as he soothed her with kind words in a gentle voice and scrubbed out the debris from her badly scraped limbs. As she regained consciousness and her miraculous recovery continued, we were reminded once again of God's constant faithfulness when our trust is placed solely in Him.
Dad: The ambulance arrived quickly and Gail went with Angel to the hospital. I went inside to our youngest daughter, April. I quickly called Gail's family and knowing they were on their way to the hospital, I left April and Bill with instructions to call the rest of my family. When I arrived at the Emergency Room, I identified myself and began filling out the paperwork for Angel's treatment. Gail's brother was a nurse at the hospital and was already there speaking with the staff. Throughout the afternoon, Bill brought April in and Gail's mother arrived. My parents, who lived next door, were not at home at the time of the accident but I remember them being at the hospital with us by the time Angel was conscious again.
As a father, you would think that I would have been anxious at the very least but God's peace sustained us right through it and His Word kept bubbling up inside of me so that it was all I could speak. I was completely resting in the faithfulness of God, my Father, to whom we had given Angel after she was born. I simply trusted that no one could take better care of her or of our family than He could.
The summer before my sophomore year of high school, my life was irrevocably changed forever. I think the actual date was sometime in mid-August 1990 but I’m still a little foggy on that. I just know that it was about 10 days before school started and I had been playing my violin with a school string quartet at a summer festival in downtown Mount Clemens, Michigan. It was a bright sunny day, hot and humid as usual. We’d come home in the early afternoon and I went over to see my dad at work.
We lived next door to my paternal grandparents and Dad was the 4th generation rose grower and manager at the family rose greenhouses there. It was a great lifestyle that was much like farming. They cut the roses twice a day every day, all year long and all of us worked there at one time or another as we grew up. Dad was the oldest of six children and I was blessed to be raised by my parents alongside my aunts and uncles with a near-constant open door policy to Papa and Grandma's house. I have extremely happy memories of that time in my life. Besides, having my parents on-site at all times was pretty cool, unlike most of my other friends' experiences. So, on this particular hot and sweaty day, I was headed over to see Dad and one of his employees, Bill*, to tell them all about the concert we’d played.
When I was done visiting them, I cut through the connecting yards between our two houses in front of the in-ground pool's fence. I decided I’d be a good daughter and get the mail which had just arrived. Our mailbox was located across the street from our house and the speed limit on our street was 45 mph even though residences lined both sides of the street. It was more like a country road in a city setting and was a driver's short cut to the county offices and jail a few miles to the northeast.
I opened our mailbox door and took out the pile of bills, letters and junk mail. Turning around to re-cross the road to our driveway, I looked both ways. I promise you, I truly did look both ways. A large bulldozer was driving down the road from my right and I paused to let him pass. I looked into the driver’s eyes. They were a startling blue and my 14-year-old mind thought, “hmm, he’s cute.” Looking down at the mail in my hands, I stepped out into the street. And that’s the last thing I remember.
The following account is from my parents’ perspective and from stories I heard immediately following that day.
Mom: April and I heard the squealing brakes and looked out toward the road. At first it looked like an elderly gentleman driving a station wagon had simply skidded off the road and nearly hit a large tree in our front yard. But the man got out of the car and moved toward the road while at the same time our friend, Bill, rushed in that direction from the greenhouse next door. They went straight to the ditch and began kneeling over something or someone. I headed out to see what had happened, as did my husband from the greenhouses next door.
Dad: Bill, my employee and friend, and I both heard a loud thump and the sound of a car going off the road. Running out of the greenhouses, Bill was ahead of me. At the edge of the pool fence, he turned back to me and shouted "call 911, I think it's Angel". So, I turned and ran back to the office telephone. I made the call quickly and ran back out to the yard across the street from our house where Bill and my wife, Gail, were kneeling around Angel.
Mom: Angel was lying in the ditch having convulsions. Someone (other neighbors were gathering by now) had already called an ambulance, so we knelt over Angel and began to pray. I recalled the Biblical account of Elijah lying across the body of the widow woman's dead son and I stretched myself out, over and above Angel. (I Kings 17:21-22) Of course, I was careful not to put any weight onto her to avoid adding to her injuries. I prayed in tongues, and I heard my husband and our friend praying aloud at the same time.
Dad: Bill later told me that when he got to my daughter, he could hear the "death rattle" he has heard many times before. He was praying fervently, arresting the spirit of death surrounding Angel. My wife, was hovering over her praying in the Spirit and I heard myself praying over my oldest daughter using medical terms I did not know or understand and have never used since. I held her head and watched the convulsions slow, then cease as the lump on her temple diminished before my very eyes.
Mom: When the ambulance came, in about 3 minutes or so, Angel seemed more quieted and the convulsions had stopped completely. The large half-a-grapefruit size knot at her temple had gone down visibly as we had been praying. She was placed in the ambulance and I rode along. During the ride, they asked Angel if she knew her name, and the answer was slow in coming. They asked her if she knew what day it was, and she ventured a wrong guess. They asked who the president was, and she was unsure. When we arrived at the hospital, she was taken for a CAT scan and x-rays, and I was allowed back into the room afterwards while they scrubbed the gravel and debris from the roadside out of her thigh and shoulder. I remember the emergency room nurse was very reassuring, and he held Angel (a small and thin 14 year old) in his arms as he soothed her with kind words in a gentle voice and scrubbed out the debris from her badly scraped limbs. As she regained consciousness and her miraculous recovery continued, we were reminded once again of God's constant faithfulness when our trust is placed solely in Him.
Dad: The ambulance arrived quickly and Gail went with Angel to the hospital. I went inside to our youngest daughter, April. I quickly called Gail's family and knowing they were on their way to the hospital, I left April and Bill with instructions to call the rest of my family. When I arrived at the Emergency Room, I identified myself and began filling out the paperwork for Angel's treatment. Gail's brother was a nurse at the hospital and was already there speaking with the staff. Throughout the afternoon, Bill brought April in and Gail's mother arrived. My parents, who lived next door, were not at home at the time of the accident but I remember them being at the hospital with us by the time Angel was conscious again.
As a father, you would think that I would have been anxious at the very least but God's peace sustained us right through it and His Word kept bubbling up inside of me so that it was all I could speak. I was completely resting in the faithfulness of God, my Father, to whom we had given Angel after she was born. I simply trusted that no one could take better care of her or of our family than He could.
*Some names have been changed
No comments:
Post a Comment