I believe that God is protecting and watching over me no matter how dismal the situation. I have seen little glimpses of this truth throughout my life but one occurrence stands out to me more than any other as proof that I am not alone.
It was a Wednesday morning, about two and a half years ago; I woke up to a tapping on my door. I am usually a light sleeper so this gentle tapping was more than enough to wake me up. “Beth, it’s Mrs. Donahue, your school counselor.” That was when it hit me, oh God, after these three long months of bed sores, bed pans, night terrors, radiation, and chemo therapy, it has finally happened. I got out of bed and walked to my bedroom door. I greeted Mrs. Donahue. I walked downstairs and saw two of my aunts, Helena and Sharon, sitting in the two chairs across from the television. I fumbled to the couch so I would not collapse.
Mrs. Donahue began to speak in a slow, calm voice. “Your mother woke up this morning to give your father his medication. When she tried to stir him, he was cold. She screamed and called the hospital. They gave her directions to revive him, but it was too late. An ambulance, fire truck, and the police came to the house but have just left. Your mother is away making the arrangements. ”
Numb, I rubbed the sleeve of my over-sized sweatshirt on my haggard, tear-stained face. As I mentioned earlier, I am a very light sleeper. Sometimes I wake in the dark to the sound of my own voice. To this very day, I believe that it was divine intervention or even a miracle that I did not wake up that morning.
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