This is a Long One

Jan and I had a great 4-day trip to my old stomping grounds, the Central Valley. Her cousins were celebrating their 50th anniversary in Selma, so we went up for that, went to church in Porterville, then spent a couple of days with my sister at their cabin in Shaver Lake.

Got in about 3:30 on Friday, then went to see my mom in Reedley. She's going to be 93 in September, and her health continues to gradually deteriorate. Spent about an hour with her before she wanted to go to the dining hall, and most of the conversation has to be "yes" and "no" because those are the only intelligible words she can say now. She did say, "Go" when it was time for dinner, and Jan swears she said, "I hate dinner"--they were having mac and cheese. She has to be fed, bathed, changed, and lifted in and out of bed. But she didn't cry when we left--a victory in itself--mainly because we promised to drop by again Tuesday on our way home.

After dinner Friday Jan's family was sitting around looking at pictures and telling family stories, and I had nothing to contribute--and didn't really feel like watching O'Reilly or Glenn Beck--so I went outside and sat on their porch swing. There was barely a hint of breeze and I realized they don't make summer nights in Huntington Beach like the ones in the Central Valley. We were far enough away from the freeway to not be able to hear it, and I heard voices from probably a couple of miles away as kids got in their last playtime before dark. I flashed back to my youth, where I rarely slept inside during the summer. I slept out in our backyard, often with a couple of friends, and fell asleep to millions of stars in the sky. I slept under the clotheslines, so on occasion we would drape a clear dropcloth over the lines and watch the thunderstorms over our heads. My dad eventually built me a bed further back, between our two peach trees.

Saturday's celebration was good, and there were enough people I knew to make it enjoyable.

Sunday we delayed our trip up to Shaver to go to the Porterville Church of the Nazarene. That wasn't part of the original plan, but circumstances made it impossible for us not to go. Their pastor, Mark Pitcher, was our youth pastor in Garden Grove when our kids were toddlers, and we worked in his department and got close to him and his wife Karen. Two weeks before Karen had to be hospitalized with bleeding on the brain, we followed her progress with Facebook updates, and Mark posted that he was going to share the story Sunday morning. Turns out they just moved into a new sanctuary 3 weeks ago, and it was an emotional experience for Jan since her grandfather and uncle both pastored that church in the 30s and 40s.
Karen had complained of a severe headache on Friday night the 10th, and Mark finally had to call the paramedics and have her taken to ER. Bleeding on the brain was diagnosed, probably from a ruptured aneurysm, and she was transported to Fresno. By the time she got there it was 4:30 am Saturday and Mark hadn't had a chance to phone anyone to let them know what was going on. By the way, his sermon title was, "Strong Men DO Cry," and as he led us through their ordeal, there were many strong men and women tearing up in the congregation. He pointed out he had often been at the bedside of parishioners in peril, but this was a first for him. So here was what he learned in a brand new way.
1. The Ministry of Prayer--Once he had a chance, he posted a status on facebook, asking for prayer. Karen had been administered a "coma" test, and her responses were heavily leaning toward a "mortal" result for her. Jan read the post, sent messages to our Garden Grove friends and her cousins in Lake Elsinore, and before long Mark and Karen were on at least 3 prayer chains. He said he had over 200 emails and comments on facebook, including one from a former member who now lives in Holland that started with, "I was just thinking about you and..."
2. The Ministry of Presence--Karen was in surgery to relieve pressure on her brain, Mark was alone, crying out to God waiting outside surgery. It was about a half hour since he had called his staff to spread the word. The elevator opened and out walked 2 of his staff and 2 lay members. They rushed to him and he collapsed in their arms. His 2 kids ignored his "wait and see" advice and immediately started heading to Fresno from southern California. He said that in that situation, "There's nothing more healing than a granddaughter who just wants to give Papa a hug." I hear that. He then showed a picture from facebook of he and Karen as newlyweds at Garden Grove, sent by our friend Dennis who was in his youth group at the time.
3. The Ministry of Peace--As they were going in again to try and locate the aneurysm and tie it off or send them to Stanford if it was in a difficult place, he sat outside and cupped his hands and cried out his heart to God. (As I have done myself and it always "works") he told God the burden was too much for him to bear, so he turned his hands over, palms down, and gave Karen to God. He then experienced an infilling of peace that is indescribable unless you've been there yourself.
4. The Ministry of God's Power--It was almost anticlimactic about 10 minutes later when the hospital tech came out and informed him they could find no evidence of an aneurysm. Another check a couple of days later yielded the same results. The latest is that Karen is due to go home tomorrow unless the bleeding reoccurs. Mark is claiming a miracle healing, and who can dispute him?
Afterwards we got a chance to talk with him for just a minute before he headed back to the hospital, and he assured us Karen would know we had been there. We then went to the welcome center and got our first-time-visitor gifts (Portnaz coffee mugs, what a concept!) and headed off to Shaver Lake.
Great two days with my sister and brother-in-law, despite the lack of internet. Jay is an insurance agent specializing in health insurance, and is worried that universal health care will completely annihilate his business. We talked a lot about that and his options, and it's one of those situations where there is so much to worry about because so much is unknown. I tried to reassure them because they have always been faithful tithers and God's ability to bless is greater than the government's ability to tax and socialize, but it's easy for me to say because I'm not in their position. So, if you are reading this and have a prayer list, please put Jay and Karen on it.
Saw Mom for about 5 minutes on the way home. She was already back in bed and dozing after lunch when we got there, so I'm not sure she'll even remember we were there, so I was having, "Bad Son," thoughts all the way home. And again resolving to make the drive to see her more often.
Told you this is a long one. If you're still reading, thank you. Don't think I'll even go back and proofread.