—   by  Mary A. LaClair

1,050 words:

 “Who is that important man standing at the foot of my bed?  He looks very important!  Oh, look! He even has ambassadors with him!

“He looks Jewish,.  maybe he looks Irish….does he look Irish?  No. He looks Jewish! He is a very important person.”

It was the middle of the night. The lady was in a hospital bed, in an extended care unit. She was Irish. And this lady was quite proud of her Irish heritage.

I was there at her bedside this night and several nights.  A plea came through the pulpit, from a well known, well respected local senior attorney, who also happens to be Irish.

Turning to the bed, I hear the lovely delicate lady asking who her visitors are. It must be 1:30 A.M or thereabouts. She is mostly talking to herself since she is totally deaf and can’t hear even if I answer. I sit quietly and listen. I do not want to interrupt her reverie. I make no effort to put the lights on to use the pen and pad. She is absolutely seeing visitors, visitors that I was not seeing. Yet, I sensed peace in the room.

“They are important men. Well, one is more important. He has well-dressed men with him. He looks Irish.   No… He looks Jewish, No, he must be Irish, and has important men with him, they must be ambassadors.  He is Jewish I think. They are very important. They came to see me and are standing in a group here at the foot of my bed.  They are very important.”

I sit quietly in a chair by the window. I know it must be Jesus Who is here to see her. I know my Friend Jesus is in the room with us.  She had been reliving some moments from the past earlier in the evening. I remain quiet while He has His moments with her.

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is armor-smaller-5.jpg
This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is armor-smaller-5.jpg

The earlier call from the pulpit was “We’re looking for volunteer to sit by a lady’s bedside all night long, from 7 p.m. to 7 or 9 a.m. and report back. Different family members sit with her during the days, but they feel they need someone to sit nights.” the Pastor said.  The dear lady was complaining about bad happenings during the night hours. 

The first night at the unit was uneventful. The family met me and asked me to write everything down and I was provided with a steno-pad and pen.

The lady was there to heal from a broken hip. She was uncomfortable quite a bit but was able to get periods of light rest and some sleep granting her intermittent relief from her pain. The second night, when she was peacefully sleeping, some nurses or aids came in to weigh her. I told them that now was NOT a good time to do that, the poor lady was getting some needed peace and rest. The aids seemed firm that it had to be done. I was equally firm that they would NOT wake her from rest.  They came back when she was awake and I watched the process of getting her into a sling. This caused her considerable pain and she cried out.  The family found out what the bad night problems were and they put a total stop to it.

On the notepad, I document the events for the family. In the note I ask them to please relate to their Mother Who I thought had visited her in the night. I don’t know if they did.

She slept peacefully the next night.

After that, the family gave me an envelope with a monetary thank you saying that I wouldn’t be needed any more. They, through their family physician, had ended uncomfortable night weigh-ins and solved the mystery of the ‘bad happenings’ in the middle of the night.  They were grateful. I have been told that the hospital has since changed their policy on weigh in procedures.

I would like to think that the family was also comforted by the fact that Jesus knew where their Mother was and that He had made a special heavenly visit to her room. 

The third night I was there, I remember looking out the window seeing a blinding blizzard. Snow was blowing sideways, swirling around in circles, absolutely filling the cold night March air with rioting curtains of white. Visibility was nil. All one could see were curtains of white blowing all which ways. One could not see through these ‘billowing curtains’. I made a special note of thanking the Lord that my family was all safe. Little did I know that that very night my son was on the road to the hospital in this blinding storm, with his wife who was about to give birth, and that I would see the baby in that same hospital before I left that day shortly after dawn.

God is in the details of our lives, especially during tough times.  As I was leaving the hospital shortly past dawn that day, I had received the unexpected message that my son and daughter-in-law had made it to the maternity ward in time for the delivery of their third child.  I found that unit just as the baby was born. What I was not aware of, was the harrowing time they had driving through that blinding blizzard where visibility was practically zero.  My son admitted to his many prayers on the journey into the city over lonely snow deep drifting country roads in the middle of the night where he could hardly tell where the road was. At the next turn, a snowplow appeared in front of them! They were able to make it to the main road.

God is in the details of our lives often when we are least aware.  He had a believer in the room with the elderly lady, one whom respected the heavenly visitation, He had an angel on a snowplow, and He timed a baby’s delivery that night. Did angels from a hospital room in the city move swiftly to a snowplow in the country miles away? Do you think a son’s prayers combined with unknown concurring prayers of thanksgiving from an unaware Mother contributed to the appearance of angels on the road that night?          

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