"TO EVERYTHING THERE IS A SEASON"

I remember when I was in the hospital, very ill from the septicemia which required subsequent emergency surgery after the mastectomies, I was waking up in the ICU. A male voice with a Venezuelan or Brazilian accent, speaking in Latin, stood next to my bed. I recognized some of the Latin words. I gradually opened my eyes and first saw the black cloth standing above me. Trying not to fall back into anesthesia hangover, I followed the black drapery of cloth until I could visualize a blur of dark skin, the hands folded in prayer. I reached up to touch those hands but my network of IV lines couldn't reach that far.

I finally succeeded in opening my eyes fully. He was a priest, and I asked him to pray in English. I closed my eyes again, and fought to stay awake. I knew I was weak, very weak, and I felt half alive. His soft voice, his accent, made it difficult for me to understand completely what he was saying, but I was shocked when I realized he was actually giving me "last rites". I heard him ask the Father to forgive my sins and ask me if I believe in Jesus Christ, to which I nodded. He then told the Father to accept this child into His Kingdom, or words to that effect.

By this time, I was weeping because I knew the medical staff had called him. Was there no hope left for me? What about my son, Jim? Why haven't they called him? What will happen to him, and my mother? No. God's plan for me is not dying now!

The priest's finger touched my forehead. I opened my eyes again. My mouth was terribly dry, my voice cracked when I spoke. "Thank you. It was a very beautiful prayer, but I am not dying. The Lord does not want me to die now. He has a plan for me, another season here on earth. Will you please ask the staff to send me a chaplain? I am a Protestant. Thank you for your kindness."

I believe in Jesus Christ as my saviour, and it is He alone who has given me eternal life, but He was not coming that day for me. There is so much work to be done here on earth. Didn't he allow me to wake up that day?

I prayed that He would place before me a woman chaplain who would truly believe that I am not dying, who would know that I believe deeply in the Lord, and that I need to share my faith and talk openly about God, Christ, Job, Abraham, and everything that has made me strong in my beliefs. I prayed that the she would be a spiritual advisor who will give me hope, someone to talk to and listen to, and be comforted by her prayers. More than anything else, this is what I needed to get well.

I fell back to sleep in the middle of my prayer. I trust that The Holy Spirit interceded and finished my requests.

To everything there is a season, and a time to
every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to
plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to
break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to
mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather
stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from
embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to
keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to
keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate;
A time of war, and a time of peace.
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8