June 06, 2011
It's Monday morning, so I go and do what I have done every Monday morning for the last six months—I go to visit Jane. She is lying in bed, slightly on her right side, with her back facing me. Her mouth was open and she was unresponsive. There was no visible response to my voice or movement in the room. Jane had been unresponsive during my visits for several months now. The only time I ever saw Jane in a lazy boy chair was at our first meeting in January '07. During all my other visits Jane was either slouched in her wheel chair or lying in bed, and for the last several weeks she was entirely bed-ridden. So on this Monday morning, I found Jane just like she had been for many weeks—lying unresponsive in bed, with her mouth wide open. She looked just like my Dad did on the day he died. For weeks Jane had shown no visible response to my voice or my touch.
I said, "Good morning Jane." No response. "I'm here to read to you, Jane." Again, no response. I picked up her NIV and walked over to her bedside. I read to her. Nothing. I read to her for at least 30–45 minutes at the minimum. No movement, no acknowledgment someone was in the room—nothing. I walked across the room to her dresser. Hospice had put a notebook in the room where guests could record any comments or concerns. It was still in the room and I would write what kind of condition I found Jane in each week. As I picked up the notebook, Jane spoke. In a soft but clear voice Jane said, "Read Psalm 150." Shocked to hear her say anything, I walked back over to her bedside. I said, "Did you ask me to read Psalm 150, Jane"? She replied, "Yes." I went back to her dresser to get her Bible I had just laid down. In my mind I was thinking, is there a Psalm 150? It seemed like a really big number, and at that time I couldn't remember how many chapters Psalms had. Psalm 150 is the last chapter in the Psalms.
I read Psalm 150 to her:
Praise the Lord.
Praise God in his sanctuary
Praise him in his mighty heavens
Praise him for his acts of power
Praise him for his surpassing greatness
Praise him with the sounding of the trumpets
Praise him with the harp and lyre
Praise him with the tambourines and dancing
Praise him with the strings and the flutes
Praise him with the clash of cymbals
Praise him with resounding cymbals
Let everything that hath breath
Praise the LORD
Praise the LORD.
I finished reading. Nothing. No response or movement of any kind.
I chose a few other Psalms to read. Still nothing. I again walked across the room to write in her Hospice notebook. Jane spoke again. I walked back to her bed and said, "Did you say to read Psalm 40 Jane"? Jane replied in a clear voice, "No. I said read Psalm 140." I picked her Bible back up and began to read:
Rescue me O LORD from evil men
Protect me from men of violence
Who devise evil plans in their heart
And stir up war every day
They make their tongues as sharp as serpents
The poison of vipers is on their lips.
Keep me, O LORD from the hands of the wicked
Protect me from men of violence who plan to trip my feet
Proud men have hidden a snare for me
They have spread out the cord of their net
And have set traps for me along my path.
But we say, "O LORD, You are our God."
Hear O LORD our cry for mercy
O Sovereign LORD, our strong Deliverer
Who shields our head in the days of battle
Do not grant the wicked their desires
Do not let their plans succeed
Or they will become proud.
Let the heads of those who surround me
Be covered with the trouble their lips have caused
Let burning coals fall on them
May they be thrown into the fire
Into the miry pit never to rise
Let the slanderers not be established in the land
And may disaster hunt down men of violence.
I know the LORD secures justice for the poor
And upholds the cause of the needy
Surely the righteous will praise his name
And the upright will live before him.
Tears were running down by face. Jane had just asked me to read a Psalm that line by line totally described "the storm." A Psalm that I didn't even know existed. Of all the things Jane had underlined in her NIV, she had nothing marked in Psalm 140. And then Jane, who had been totally unresponsive for weeks and months—began to pray. In a clear, strong voice Jane prayed for all the meetings coming up (there would be many many meetings ahead); she prayed for the precious privilege of leading someone to Christ and that we would soon have the opportunity to do so (the Lord had just placed a new lawyer into our lives, someone my husband and I both strongly felt God had specifically placed to not only defend us, but for us to share our faith with); she prayed for the privilege and blessing of teaching young people (I've taught large groups of 7th grade girls at our church for many years, something I am very passionate about); she prayed for Pastor _____ and his family and that God would bless them and protect them (Pastor _____ is our Pastor's name, Jane knew nothing about where we went to church); then Jane prayed for encouragement for this "dear one who comes to see me" (we'd just found out we were facing a vicious and ruinous lawsuit, we most certainly could use some encouragement).
I stood there in total shock and amazement. I knew I was experiencing something that was not man created. This could only be supernatural. This could only be the Hand of God.
It had been over six months since I first met Jane. There had been no mutual conversations since our first meeting. I told Jane nothing about our personal lives or the circumstances we were facing during any of my weekly visits. Jane was now totally unresponsive and had shown no alertness or awareness of her surroundings for many weeks if not months. Most of the time I wasn't sure if she even knew I was in the room, but because I knew that "hearing" was usually the last sense to go, I continued to visit, read, sing, and pray with Jane. And now Jane, after being totally unresponsive for weeks, was telling me to read Psalm 150 and Psalm 140, and then she once again prayed a prayer of encouragement and blessing over my life. In a clear strong voice (something Jane in her own strength was physically incapable of doing) Jane prayed a long prayer about every relevant thing in our lives (something Jane in her own strength was mentally incapable of doing). How could it be that Jane asked me to read two specific chapters in Psalms? How could Jane, without any prior knowledge, then specifically pray about every important and relevant thing in our lives?
It can only be described as the Hand of God. On my regular Monday morning visit (just three days after the ruinous lawsuit was filed) Jane spoke words that could have only been God-ordained. God-ordained words that would have been missed if Jane's Power of Attorney had not removed Jane from Hospice four months earlier. I didn't know a decision was made to extend Jane's life until I met Jane's POA almost a year later. We sat on either side of Jane's death bed and talked all night. For the first time, I heard the story of how Jane developed a bladder infection and why Jane's POA made the decision to remove her from Hospice so the bladder infection would be treated. If Jane's POA had not followed what she inexplicably knew she had to do, Jane would not have been alive on this fateful day and I would have missed the blessing of Jane telling me to to read Psalm 150, Psalm 140 and Jane's prayer of encouragement.
I called my husband on the way home to tell him what had happened. I was stunned and crying. I could not believe what had just happened. What a gift. What an incredible thing to watch as the Hand of God works in your life.
Man's plans, traps, schemes, and strategies mean nothing. God is is control. He knows. God's will—WILL be done. God is our Defender. God is our Protector. God is our Provider. God is our Judge. God took an elderly 89 year old woman who was all alone with very limited physical and mental abilities remaining, and had her pray a prayer of blessing on my life on the very day "the storm" clouds began to form. Six months later, at the very time "the storm" became a whirlwind, God again used Jane to tell us to read Psalm 150 (how we should live our lives—a Psalm of praise) and then Psalm 140 (an exact description of our situation—a Psalm of protection) and then Jane prayed another prayer of blessing and encouragement. Wow!! Words just can't express our gratefulness to our LORD and Savior.
Here we are, four years later... and "the storm" rages on. God is still in control. God is still our Defender. He is still the One mighty to save. He is still enough! (Her Name Was Jane)
Next Entry: Psalm 140:1 – 144:15 (Continued)
It's Monday morning, so I go and do what I have done every Monday morning for the last six months—I go to visit Jane. She is lying in bed, slightly on her right side, with her back facing me. Her mouth was open and she was unresponsive. There was no visible response to my voice or movement in the room. Jane had been unresponsive during my visits for several months now. The only time I ever saw Jane in a lazy boy chair was at our first meeting in January '07. During all my other visits Jane was either slouched in her wheel chair or lying in bed, and for the last several weeks she was entirely bed-ridden. So on this Monday morning, I found Jane just like she had been for many weeks—lying unresponsive in bed, with her mouth wide open. She looked just like my Dad did on the day he died. For weeks Jane had shown no visible response to my voice or my touch.
I said, "Good morning Jane." No response. "I'm here to read to you, Jane." Again, no response. I picked up her NIV and walked over to her bedside. I read to her. Nothing. I read to her for at least 30–45 minutes at the minimum. No movement, no acknowledgment someone was in the room—nothing. I walked across the room to her dresser. Hospice had put a notebook in the room where guests could record any comments or concerns. It was still in the room and I would write what kind of condition I found Jane in each week. As I picked up the notebook, Jane spoke. In a soft but clear voice Jane said, "Read Psalm 150." Shocked to hear her say anything, I walked back over to her bedside. I said, "Did you ask me to read Psalm 150, Jane"? She replied, "Yes." I went back to her dresser to get her Bible I had just laid down. In my mind I was thinking, is there a Psalm 150? It seemed like a really big number, and at that time I couldn't remember how many chapters Psalms had. Psalm 150 is the last chapter in the Psalms.
I read Psalm 150 to her:
Praise the Lord.
Praise God in his sanctuary
Praise him in his mighty heavens
Praise him for his acts of power
Praise him for his surpassing greatness
Praise him with the sounding of the trumpets
Praise him with the harp and lyre
Praise him with the tambourines and dancing
Praise him with the strings and the flutes
Praise him with the clash of cymbals
Praise him with resounding cymbals
Let everything that hath breath
Praise the LORD
Praise the LORD.
I finished reading. Nothing. No response or movement of any kind.
I chose a few other Psalms to read. Still nothing. I again walked across the room to write in her Hospice notebook. Jane spoke again. I walked back to her bed and said, "Did you say to read Psalm 40 Jane"? Jane replied in a clear voice, "No. I said read Psalm 140." I picked her Bible back up and began to read:
Rescue me O LORD from evil men
Protect me from men of violence
Who devise evil plans in their heart
And stir up war every day
They make their tongues as sharp as serpents
The poison of vipers is on their lips.
Keep me, O LORD from the hands of the wicked
Protect me from men of violence who plan to trip my feet
Proud men have hidden a snare for me
They have spread out the cord of their net
And have set traps for me along my path.
But we say, "O LORD, You are our God."
Hear O LORD our cry for mercy
O Sovereign LORD, our strong Deliverer
Who shields our head in the days of battle
Do not grant the wicked their desires
Do not let their plans succeed
Or they will become proud.
Let the heads of those who surround me
Be covered with the trouble their lips have caused
Let burning coals fall on them
May they be thrown into the fire
Into the miry pit never to rise
Let the slanderers not be established in the land
And may disaster hunt down men of violence.
I know the LORD secures justice for the poor
And upholds the cause of the needy
Surely the righteous will praise his name
And the upright will live before him.
Tears were running down by face. Jane had just asked me to read a Psalm that line by line totally described "the storm." A Psalm that I didn't even know existed. Of all the things Jane had underlined in her NIV, she had nothing marked in Psalm 140. And then Jane, who had been totally unresponsive for weeks and months—began to pray. In a clear, strong voice Jane prayed for all the meetings coming up (there would be many many meetings ahead); she prayed for the precious privilege of leading someone to Christ and that we would soon have the opportunity to do so (the Lord had just placed a new lawyer into our lives, someone my husband and I both strongly felt God had specifically placed to not only defend us, but for us to share our faith with); she prayed for the privilege and blessing of teaching young people (I've taught large groups of 7th grade girls at our church for many years, something I am very passionate about); she prayed for Pastor _____ and his family and that God would bless them and protect them (Pastor _____ is our Pastor's name, Jane knew nothing about where we went to church); then Jane prayed for encouragement for this "dear one who comes to see me" (we'd just found out we were facing a vicious and ruinous lawsuit, we most certainly could use some encouragement).
I stood there in total shock and amazement. I knew I was experiencing something that was not man created. This could only be supernatural. This could only be the Hand of God.
It had been over six months since I first met Jane. There had been no mutual conversations since our first meeting. I told Jane nothing about our personal lives or the circumstances we were facing during any of my weekly visits. Jane was now totally unresponsive and had shown no alertness or awareness of her surroundings for many weeks if not months. Most of the time I wasn't sure if she even knew I was in the room, but because I knew that "hearing" was usually the last sense to go, I continued to visit, read, sing, and pray with Jane. And now Jane, after being totally unresponsive for weeks, was telling me to read Psalm 150 and Psalm 140, and then she once again prayed a prayer of encouragement and blessing over my life. In a clear strong voice (something Jane in her own strength was physically incapable of doing) Jane prayed a long prayer about every relevant thing in our lives (something Jane in her own strength was mentally incapable of doing). How could it be that Jane asked me to read two specific chapters in Psalms? How could Jane, without any prior knowledge, then specifically pray about every important and relevant thing in our lives?
It can only be described as the Hand of God. On my regular Monday morning visit (just three days after the ruinous lawsuit was filed) Jane spoke words that could have only been God-ordained. God-ordained words that would have been missed if Jane's Power of Attorney had not removed Jane from Hospice four months earlier. I didn't know a decision was made to extend Jane's life until I met Jane's POA almost a year later. We sat on either side of Jane's death bed and talked all night. For the first time, I heard the story of how Jane developed a bladder infection and why Jane's POA made the decision to remove her from Hospice so the bladder infection would be treated. If Jane's POA had not followed what she inexplicably knew she had to do, Jane would not have been alive on this fateful day and I would have missed the blessing of Jane telling me to to read Psalm 150, Psalm 140 and Jane's prayer of encouragement.
I called my husband on the way home to tell him what had happened. I was stunned and crying. I could not believe what had just happened. What a gift. What an incredible thing to watch as the Hand of God works in your life.
Man's plans, traps, schemes, and strategies mean nothing. God is is control. He knows. God's will—WILL be done. God is our Defender. God is our Protector. God is our Provider. God is our Judge. God took an elderly 89 year old woman who was all alone with very limited physical and mental abilities remaining, and had her pray a prayer of blessing on my life on the very day "the storm" clouds began to form. Six months later, at the very time "the storm" became a whirlwind, God again used Jane to tell us to read Psalm 150 (how we should live our lives—a Psalm of praise) and then Psalm 140 (an exact description of our situation—a Psalm of protection) and then Jane prayed another prayer of blessing and encouragement. Wow!! Words just can't express our gratefulness to our LORD and Savior.
Here we are, four years later... and "the storm" rages on. God is still in control. God is still our Defender. He is still the One mighty to save. He is still enough! (Her Name Was Jane)
Next Entry: Psalm 140:1 – 144:15 (Continued)
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