Rays of Light

Being in a coma certainly did not prevent that repulsive, raspy noise from escaping out her mouth loudly enough to wake the dead. I, on the other hand, lay in the Emergency Room fairly aware of my surroundings; too weakened by blood loss to utter a sound. Under normal circumstances our paths would never have crossed, but there in that hospital, God had a plan.

In that seemingly eternal wait for someone to transfer me to an upstairs bed, I prayed. “Oh Lord, I am so weak, so tired. You know we can’t afford a private room, but I just can’t deal with anything else right now; please work it out so that I don’t have to share a room.”

Rest is hard enough to come by with all the medical staff in and out. How much more distress would I endure with a second parade of bodies tending to another patient? I tried to focus on something more positive when the soft voice of conviction pricked my heart; I was being selfish. What if I could somehow touch another person’s life?

Then again, how could God possibly use me in such a fragile state of being that even talking drained my last ounce of strength? I didn’t feel like being generous or loving, I only wanted to go to sleep and hope I woke up feeling as though there were still some life left in my body. Yes, I was being selfish. Ashamedly, I apologized in prayer and yielded myself to whatever He desired. “It’s in your hands,” I added, while drifting out of consciousness.

I heard the woman long before my mind was fully cognizant of my new surroundings. But I didn’t have the strength to lift my head let alone “reason” with God as to why he must surely have made a mistake. “I cannot stomach regular snoring,” I thought, “let alone this exasperating rumble.” I briefly grappled with the old proverbial saying: “Be careful what you pray for, you just might get it.” Why would God choose this room for me? How long would I have to endure that awful noise? I was feeling quite selfish again and somewhat justified in it.

Several hours later, my husband brought my cassette player and audio bible. I let them play day and night because they brought comfort and encouragement, but drowning out the woman’s raucous noise would certainly be an added blessing. Because I was still unable to think clearly, I hadn’t noticed how close my bed was to hers. Looking back now I see God’s hand at work; back then I only noticed that there was a rolling tray between us.

Every time I started a new tape, I could see the woman’s face through a gap in the curtain. She never stirred, not even once. Since I hate headphones so much, I reasoned that playing my tapes aloud would be fine since she was comatose anyway. Thankfully, the deep male voice just feet from her head didn’t seem to bother her in the least.

Her coma, I learned, was the result of a violent crime and the raspy sound a result of damage to her lungs. My heart softened greatly towards this poor elderly woman. By this time, I wanted to speak encouraging words to her, but I was still too weak to do so even if she weren’t in a coma. So I decided to comfort her the only way I could. I turned up the volume to the cassette player in hopes that she could hear it even if she couldn’t physically respond. If nothing else, perhaps her spirit would be soothed.

Much to my joy, the woman’s head actually turned towards the cassette player after two days of scripture filling our room. My body was getting stronger and I truly hoped hers would too; I pushed the cassette player closer to her and prayed for her as often as I could.

The next day brought the greatest joy. The woman creaked out the words, “I’m hot!” The nurses disbelieved me. “That’s impossible,” they replied flippantly. I never tried to eavesdrop, but in a room the size of a closet, it’s hard not to overhear. The medical staff had given up and began preparing to admit the woman into a long-term care facility. “She hasn’t responded to anything in the last two weeks and we don’t expect her to ever again.”

“She said she was hot!” I insisted. Once the realization of what I had said actually hit the nurse, she began calling others in. Now I was pleased at the parade of bodies attending to this dear woman. I hadn’t done much, only pushed some buttons and flipped some tapes, but the Lord was able to work mightily through that.

Of course, he could have spoken to the woman’s spirit without my help and probably would have. But he chose that seemingly insignificant act to do a work in me. I was clearly reminded that God does not care about our ability; He is only interested in our AVAILability.

I was also reminded that God can still minister to our spirits even when our flesh is weak. To this day I still like to fall asleep listening to Bible tapes. That’s pointless, you might think. You can’t listen to them if you are sleeping. No, but my spirit does. I know this because of how much sounder I sleep and how much more refreshed I am upon awakening.

I wish I could report to you that the comatose woman awoke from the coma and lived happily ever after, but I can’t. I was released the same day she spoke and I have no idea what happened to her. I wholeheartedly believe, though, that her spirit soaked-up God’s holy word and she was moved by it. And I believe that she and God were in communication even if no one else knew about it.

I am so thankful that I have full command of my senses, but even more grateful that God knows how to reach us even if we cannot reach out to Him. I pray that I never forget that hospital experience, and that I will always avail myself to touching other lives, especially those who are having difficulty reaching out to God on their own.

Here I am Lord, please use me.

(*Like everything else on this site; this is a true account.)