Tuesday, December 2, 2014

TIME TO TESTIFY (Faith In Our Father)

                         Faith In Our Father

     "You have 12 new messages, 3 saved messages. First message... from phone number 505, 769, 0982... received . May third at six fifty - seven a.m.... 'Hello? Dejon? This is your dad. I'll need a ride to the hospital today. (pause) If you can. Okay? Okay, I'll see you." To replay this message press 4.. to erase, press 7... to return this call, press 8... to save, press 9... for more options, press 0."
     Had I not received and responded to the messages my dad would have died. But even taking him to the hospital, what seemed to be a simple case of my dad being anemic and needing a blood transfusion transpired into something much worse.
     It all began  just two weeks after I had moved back to my hometown. After unpacking and finally getting settled into my trailer I set out early one Monday morning in search of employment and a new start in my hometown.
    It was almost noon so I decided to go home, eat some lunch then continue putting applications everywhere. I forgot to carry my phone with me that morning so when I looked and noticed I had messages, my first thought was somebody was already contacting me for a job interview. After all, I hadn't been back in town very long and nobody knew I was in Clovis so I didn't think it could be anybody else calling.
     But after the third voice-mail I received from my dad, I knew something must be seriously wrong. My dad wasn't one to just pick up the phone and call people and he was a very independent man, so to hear that he needed a ride to the hospital caused me to worry and fear the worst.
     I rushed to my dad's house and fortunately he left the front door unlocked. I entered and went straight to his bedroom where he was laying asleep. I gentle shook him to wake him and tell him I was there to take him to the hospital. I told him I would wait in the living room while he gets dressed then we would leave.
     I was sitting in a chair that faced the long hallway leading to the bedrooms. As soon as my dad came walking up the hallway I knew immediately what was wrong with him--- he was anemic. I struggled with it years earlier so I knew the signs and I understood what my dad was enduring.
     After rushing him to the emergency room, he was admitted into the hospital to receive a blood transfusion. The first two days seemed to go well and he was to be released the third day. But when the next day came, they didn't release him because they said his blood count was low and they had to give him yet another blood transfusion. 
     Then finally after a week in the hospital, the doctors decided something was seriously wrong with my dad. Apparently, he was bleeding somewhere and they couldn't find out where so they advised that we should transfer him to another hospital where he could receive better treatment. So we transferred him to Lubbock, Texas which is about 180 miles from our hometown of Clovis, New Mexico.
     After the transfer, the next day, the doctors from Lubbock told me my dad had a gall bladder the size of a baseball and that he would need surgery to remove it. After the surgery, my dad seemed fine but the doctors would not release him. The doctor kept giving my dad test. Yet, every time we would ask about the test results the doctor replied, "I don't know. I haven't seen the results yet." then he would rush off.
     We would pray over my dad and it seemed like he was getting better so we were confused why the doctor refused to release him. I could see the work our Heavenly Father was doing on my dad. We saw how my dad's attitude was better, his health was definitely improving.
     After three weeks, I'm beginning to get very upset with the doctor. I had a strong faith that our Heavenly Father was healing my dad, it was very obvious when we prayed over him  and we had hope that he would be released soon. Although, when we had to leave the hospital to drive back to Clovis to tend to animals, get the mail, catch up on bills, etc. unknown to me, the doctors would take my dad out of his room and run tests on him. Every time we returned to the Lubbock hospital, he looked in worse shape that he did before we left. He always looked as if somebody had beaten him up.
     I then realized that the only way my dad was going to heal is if I got him out of that hospital so the doctors couldn't continue to interfere with the healing process that our Heavenly Father was doing.
     Finally, one day after returning from Clovis and once again seeing my dad in worse shape than before we left,  I demanded they stop all the testing. I explained to the doctor that whatever testing they were doing it was more harmful to my dad than if they just left him alone. The doctors explained to me that as long as my dad was in the hospital under their care and did not have a DNR (Do not resuscitate) active, then it's their responsibility to take the tests to try and find the problem. This angered me and I quickly reacted by requesting they put a DNR on my dad. We then began making arrangements to take him home and place him in hospice care.
     The doctor seemed upset and told me that my dad would never make the drive back to Clovis. But my faith was so strong that I knew my Heavenly Father would allow my dad to get home and if it be His Will to take my dad, at least he would pass away peacefully at home where he wanted to be.
     When I told my oldest sister what the doctor said, she agreed with him. She told me that once they disconnect the IV from my dad then the clock will start ticking. This infuriated me. I just thought to myself, "Where is your faith?" I also became fearful because of my ignorance in the medical field I was a bit worried that they just might be right.
     As my sisters and my nephew left the hospital ahead of us so they could be at the house when hospice staff arrived to set up the bed before the ambulance brought my dad home, I stayed behind at the hospital with my dad. I was P.O.A. (Power of Attorney) so I had to wait for the paramedics to arrive to sign the necessary release and transfer papers.
     During that time, I prayed again. I prayed hard asking my Heavenly Father to let me be doing the right thing. I asked God that if it was time to take my dad to at least wait until he was home. I asked my Heavenly Father to grant my dad's final wish to allow him to die at his home. Then I felt a great sense of peace and calm. After my prayer, I woke my dad and told him he was going home.
     My dad hadn't really spoken to us in about three weeks. My guess is that he was upset because we didn't get him out of the hospital sooner, after all, he was asking to go home just right after the surgery. But at that very moment, he opened his eyes  and asked, "What? What was that?"
     And I held his hand and said, "Dad, the ambulance is on it's way. You're going home dad. We're getting you outta here."
     My dad squeezed my hand as hard as he could and said, "Thank you, thank you. God bless you." and a tear rolled from the corner of his eye as he flashed me a smile.
     When the ambulance arrived and I signed all the necessary paperwork, the paramedic asked me for directions where to take my dad then told me I could leave and meet them at the house. 
     The drive to Clovis was so emotional. I constantly prayed for my dad to at least make it home and to know he was home yet, doubt would try to overcome my faith. I kept hearing what my sister and the doctor said about my dad never making the trip home alive. Yet, my strong faith in my Heavenly Father refused to believe what my sister and the doctor said. I knew that if it be my Father's Will then He would allow my dad to arrive home alive. I knew my Heavenly Father was faithful in His promises to us and He has always promised that if we had faith the size of a mustard seed then it shall be.
     My faith won. Not only did my dad arrive home alive but his health also improved. He lost all the swelling from the edema, (when he was released from the hospital he was the size of the Good Year blimp man they used to advertise).  He was able to walk, eat on his own and he was talking more. He lived six months longer than the doctors gave him.
     It was my strong faith in my Father --- my Heavenly Father, that kept my dad alive. Oh, and all those tests the doctors were taking, I discovered after I retrieved the medical records that the tests were taken because my dad has so much wrong with him internally and the doctors kept taken tests because they couldn't understand how my dad was even still alive. 

Matthew 19:26 - But Jesus beheld them, and said unto them, "With men this is impossible; but with God all things are possible." 

Mark 9:23 - Jesus said unto him, "If thou canst believe, all things [are] possible to him that believeth."  

Mark 10:27 - And Jesus looking upon them saith, "With men [it is] impossilbe, but not with God: for with God all things are possible."

Luke 1:37 - For nothing is impossible with God.

Luke 18:27 - And He said,  "The things which are impossible with men are possible with God." 

Matthew 17:20 -  And Jesus said unto them, "Because of your unbelief: for verily I say unto you, If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you." 

Genesis 11:6 - And the LORD said, "Behold, the people [is] one, and they have all one language; and this they begin to do: and now nothing will be restrained from them, which they have imagined to do." 

Hebrews 6:18 - That by two immutable things, in which [it was] impossible for God to lie, we might have a strong consolation, who have fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before us: