Crash...

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That's what I did, literally, at the Mount Hermon Christian Writers Conference, Palm Sunday.

 

It was a lovely, sunny day. I was traipsing through the Redwood forest amidst ferns enjoying the scenery when the devil reached out from beneath a log with a long nailed bony finger and tripped me. Not. Although that'd be a much better story than what really happened.

I was in the room my roommate and I shared, rushing to the door to make it to the Palm Sunday Service. My foot caught on the bedspread. Maybe it was the devil after all. Either way, I launched headlong and landed on the thinly padded carpet, my head inches from the door.

 

As I fell, pain in my left knee. My right pelvis. My right shoulder.

 

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I laid there trying to catch my breath, moaning and groaning, thinking, you've got to be kidding. It was the second time I've had a bad fall while at the same conference. Determined not to miss the service, I waited a minute for the pain to ease, and rolled to my side. I gingerly pushed myself off the floor, stumbled to the bed a few feet away and collapsed on the edge of the bed.

 
Still groaning, I inched my pant leg up to take a look. My black jeans did little to protect my knee. The skin had rolled up leaving a good sized raw area. The pain in my pelvis, I realized, was due to my insulin pump being smashed against the bone. The area quickly turned purple. But why did it hurt so much to walk?

Pain or no pain, I wasn't about to miss the Palm Sunday Service. I gimped my way there, almost in tears. Partly due to shock, I'm sure. Kay Marshall Strom's portion of the message was moving.

 

Lunch was right after the service. I couldn't walk, sit, turn or twist without pain. My new friend, Christie, prayed for me, and the tears I'd held back pushed to the surface. To shorten a long story, after the urging of several caring friends, including my roomie, Michelle, I went to the ER after dinner. X-rays showed no fracture. The pain I had when walking etc, was a pulled groin muscle.

 

But before I left the ER, it became evident why the Lord had sent me.

 

My nurse, Brad, needed prayer.

Who wouldn't when the same people come in day after day and abuse the system, you're spat upon and cursed at while helping patients. I won't go into details, but Brad's response to my prayer made it clear the Lord used it, and I pray the Lord continues to minister to Brad and draws him to Himself.

 

Jesus came to save us while we were still sinners. He was spat upon. He was cursed at. He was lashed with barbed whips, and nailed to a cross … for us. I've learned over the years that our suffering need not be wasted, but rather be used for His glory. 

 

John 15:16-17 ~ "You didn't choose me, remember, I chose you, and put you in the world to bear fruit, fruit that won't spoil. As fruit bearers, whatever you ask the Father in relation to me, he gives you.

 

"But remember the root command: Love one another." The Message

 

Jesus, thank you for giving yourself for us, for placing Brad in my life, for your perfect timing. Open our eyes to opportunities you send our way, and show us when we need to offer ourselves to others that they might be drawn to you. In Jesus name, amen.

Love & Blessings,
Danie Marie

 

PS  Thanks to praying friends around the country, and there were many, I'm almost completely healed. Thank you Jesus!