Sunday, September 16, 2012
"Therefore I tell you whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours." Mark 11:24
I have had one crummy week. It all seemed to come to a head when Mom called at 11:51 Friday night to tell me she had been having chest pain for an hour. I'm glad they kept Mom in the hospital until today, but I still didn't crawl back in bed until after five Saturday morning. Mom's going to be OK, so that's all that really matters.
I’ve worked in the medical field for 25 years, so I know what the doctor on-call in the ER goes through on a busy night. When it is three am and he has been at the hospital, on his feet, for 19 hours straight and this sweet little 85-year-old lady tells him about an angina attack she had 40 years before, I can sympathize with him. Not with the little old lady so much.
I wanted to say, “Mom, please let the doctor get back to work, or maybe back to sleep.”
I am so glad that when it is three am and I feel the need to talk to someone, all I have to do is pray. God will listen. He won’t back out of the room or say He has more important things to attend to. His eyes won’t glaze over. He will be there any time of the day or night.
Hmm? I’ve been awake almost every night at three am this past week, I really should take my own advice. And what splinters have to do with any of this, I am not sure, except that those pieces of wood is kind of how I've felt all week.
And please, oh please, if anyone knows my mom, do not tell her about this blog. I’m always promising her that I never write about her. (And Mom's doctor didn't back out of the room on her, and I think his eyes were glazed over before he came in the room. For those of you living in my town, you know how busy our ER was this busy weekend.)