My trip to the ER and God’s hand

A week ago today, I sat in a hospital room trying to get some rest.  If you have ever been in a hospital you know how ridiculous that is.  Someone is coming into your room every half an hour turning on the lights leaving the door open. Then because of the machines, you have to press the call button and ask the nurse to turn off the lights and shut the door.  It gave me a new appreciation for nurses.  It has also given me a new appreciation for life.

The night before a terrible pain woke me up, I thought I was having a heart attack.  poor hubby had just gone to bed, when I told him we have to go to the ER.  Dressed in pajamas and slippers, sitting on an ER bed with machines hooked up to me all the beeping and dinging, I pray. I ask God to rescue me because I am not done yet.  I am not ready to stop spreading the word, explaining the word. I am not done telling people that they are wonderful creations.  I cried out to God, “God heal me”.

My heart came out of AFIB in five hours.  The cardiologist tells me that is unusual.  I tell him how frustrated the whole thing made me; I had been working so hard to get my numbers down, get back some mobility.  And I have gotten back a lot of mobility.  I was bringing my BP and my resting pulse was down to an average of 67.  My blood sugars were averaging 125.  Which is really great since just a few months prior my blood sugars were bouncing from 110 to 250.  A few months prior, I could barely walk across the room because my feet hurt so bad.

I had decided that I was not going to be that person and I stretched and did things to improve.  For the first time in years, I could sit down and put my shoes on without having to pull my leg up. I was ecstatic.  Then I crashed. But the cardiologist said something that gave me hope.  He spoke the wisdom from God. He said even healthy people, athletes can go into AFIB and many people’s hearts don’t go back into a normal rhythm on their own let alone as quickly as your did.

I should have told him that it was God.  I am not sure, I don’t remember, but I think I said I prayed.  Not only did I pray, but my husband prayed and I asked many more to pray.

I took this ugly picture  of my feet and posted it to my Instagram and shared in on my Facebook. Since I was still in the middle of everything it was a simple caption.  It said “AFIB Prayers” .  Later when I was more able, I sent out a couple of texts.  But at that point, I knew I needed more prayer, only God could heal me.

The verses that I had studied time and time again weren’t popping into my mind.  All I could think was I need God to heal me.  I could hear him whisper two things, sleep and ask for prayer.  I tried to do it backwards, but God expects us to follow the directions.

In 2 Kings 5:10, 14:  Elisha told the man to was himself in the Jordan River  seven times.

If he hadn’t followed the directs, he wouldn’t have been cleansed of the leprosy.

The same is true for us.  If we only follow half of the directions God has given us, or we follow but not in the order God gave us, it doesn’t work.  See the second time, I put forth the effort to take a picture, post it, then as I looked at my exhausted husband, touched his hand, I feel asleep.  We awoke to the doctor coming back in the room, the rhythm of my heart was back to normal.  They kept me about  10 more hours for observation, before sending me home.  Where I could rest.

I thought I was living, but I now see the difference. Living means actually enjoying life, laughing not always serious.



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