This morning driving to work I was tuned into a Christian station. I didn't catch the first of the broadcast but the speaker was talking about a friend of hers who had recently passed on from cancer. The friend's name was "Mary." According to the speaker, although Mary knew her time on earth was drawing to a close, she still loved and lived life to the fullest. She loved to be around people and go to parties. A few weeks before Mary's death, she and the speaker were at a luncheon when the speaker reached over to hug Mary, she said Mary felt like a sack of bones and her skin was like brittle paper. Mary acknowledged the radiation treatment had rendered her body useless but that she was still full of life. Mary said she would praise God and tell everyone about His love until she no longer could.
The speaker was out of town when Mary passed away. The speaker called the mutual friend to inquire about Mary's last days. The lady said right at the end, Mary sat up in her bed and said "they" were getting a party ready for her in Heaven! She had glimpsed eternity and came back long enough to ask this friend to promise she would lead her hospital roomate to Jesus. Then Mary went peacefully to be with her Lord!
This story brought tears to my eyes and I could barely see to drive. It reminded me of another story of a cancer victim. My son had a friend in high school....we'll call him "D". D had the reputation of being a "wild child" and at times I had to ask him not to come to our home because he would be so disruptive. After high school, he went into the Navy with my son. My son told me that D got very dispondent during basic training to the point of wanting to end his own life....only though my son's intervention was he able to complete his training and come home. Shortly after he got back home, it was discovered he had an incurable form of cancer. Just when you thought D was down and out, he rallied and seemed to get better. On a family skiing trip shortly after Christmas one year, D collapsed and returned home, this time for good. My son did not want to see D because he knew the condition D was in and didn't want to remember his friend like that. I told my son he needed to go see D because he would not have a second chance to see his friend. D passed away shortly after that.
This is the story D's mother (call her "L") told at the funeral: D was so weak his mother slept beside him so she could hear him call out to her. D had asked to be baptised during his last days and the family minister came over and they put D in the bathtub and baptised him. One night D told his mom to "put him at the foot of the bed." Everytime "L" tried to sit him up and put him at the foot of the bed, D would protest and shake his head "no." The next morning the Hospice worker came by and "L" told her the story. The Hospice worker went in to see D and came out with tears in her eyes. She said "L", D said 'did you see the angel at the foot of my bed?'. "L", it's time to tell him it's okay to pass over, he's waiting on you to tell him it's okay. Can you imagine telling your child it's okay to die? Within 24 hours D went into eternity. He was 23 years old.
My best friend's daughter developed Reye's Syndrome at age 2. Judy (my best friend) was told by the doctor that there were 5 stages of Reye's Syndrome and that Summer was in the 4th stage (coma). Summer was transported to a children's hospital about 100 miles away. Judy and her husband were not in the ambulance (she later found out from the doctor he did not think Summer would survive the trip and didn't want Judy in the ambulance if Summer passed away). At the hospital, they were allowed only short periods of time to go in to see Summer. About the 2nd day they were there, the doctor came out and told Judy and her husband to come right away. Judy said she thought that Summer had died or was about to die. When they got back to the intensive care unit, Summer was sitting up in her bed, smiling! When Judy approached her, Summer said "Mamma, Jesus came by my bed and healed me!" Now, what 2 year old would say something like this if it wasn't true? Remember, Summer had been in a coma! Every child in that unit got well. Summer is now 28 years old! Some 20 years later, this story still brings chills to me. In church that Sunday, the power of God was so strong you could hardly stand up!
How can anyone say there is no God and that miracles are for the "olden days?" I choose to believe....