what a difference some faith makes
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When I was 16 I had a part time job working at Brick Lane market in London on a Sunday morning. I used to get home about 3pm to the aroma of a roast dinner sizzling in the oven. One Sunday I came in to discover the house empty, the oven switched off and the roast half cooked on the side. After a few moments of puzzlement our neighbour knocked on the door and told me that Dad had had a massive heart attack and was in intensive care. I was to stay with her until my mum contacted us. When Mum came home she explained that Dad’s life was hanging in the balance - the next 24hrs were vital. I felt numb; all I could think was that I should be feeling more. The trouble was that Dad was a strict and distant figure that I barely knew and was frightened of. Everyone kept offering empty platitudes but all I could think was ’you don’t know if he’s going to be ok, why are you pretending you do?’. I felt empty and very alone .
Dad did pull through and ten years later I found the gospel. This gave me a much deeper understanding of the family and made me appreciate my parents more. I began to develop a better relationship with my dad and started to actually get to know him. Gradually I learnt to respect and like him. He continued to have heart problems and ended up with a quadruple by-pass.
A few years latter I received a frantic early morning phone call from my mum. Dad had had a huge attack and was dead on the bedroom floor. The ambulance crew were trying to revive him without any success. I jumped into the car and raced to my parent’s house. As I drove I prayed ’please give my dad a little longer, I’m just getting to know him and I can’t stand to lose him yet.’ I felt a deep calm descend upon me and I knew that my prayer had been heard. As I arrived the ambulance drove off with my dad on board - after 35 attempts they had managed to revive him. As I followed the ambulance I felt a great calm and reassuring feeling - I knew it would be OK. As we waited in the relatives room the doctor came out and spoke to us. He told us that although dad was alive he had less than a 1% chance of making it. The arrhythmia attack that he’d been having for the past four hours was so bad that the doctor had never heard of anyone pulling through from it. My brother and mum were distraught but I felt like I was cocooned in a deliciously warm embrace. I tried to convey to them that I knew he would be fine but I knew that my words sounded as empty as the people that tried to comfort me all those years before. I continued to pray for my dad and for my mum and brother. After another three hours the doctor came back and said that a miracle had occurred - dad had pulled through. Whilst he recovered on the ward Dad had a trail of doctors visiting him to see the miracle man. I wasn’t surprised by his recovery - I knew he’d pull through. I am so grateful to have such a loving Heavenly Father who answers my prayers.
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| by dinkidi |
Other Comments
"Thanks for sharing this story."
by: netdbs
"I hope you don't mind me using your story in my Sunday School class today. I teach the 13-14 year-old youth class and today's lesson was on the conversion of Alma the Younger and the son's of Mosiah.
We talked about the contrast between Alma's condition prior to his conversion and after his conversion, his torment and gall of bitterness vs. his relief and exquisite joy.
Alma's experience was probably out of the ordinary, more on the spectacular side. I thought your experience might be a little more relatable to these young people.
I asked the class to identify the contrasting elements in your experience. They pointed out the clear differences between feeling "empty and very alone" and what you described as a "deep calm and reassuring feeling" and what you aptly called a "warm embrace."
I think what you (and Alma) describe, actual change of heart, is the essence of conversion and testimony. Thanks again."
by: netdbs
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