Touch of Heaven
Story By: paulchernoch
Christian Writers
In mid June, I lost my job. In mid October, I started a new one. The
miracle is how I needed to be out of work for the months in between and
not be stressed out about not having a job so that I could attend to
things that needed my attention.
The day after I lost my job, I went to visit my parents. My mom was in the hospital. I was able to speak to her on the last day she was conscious and able to speak and take the last picture of her that our family has of her alive. Had I been working, I would not have made the trip.
Being out of work, I had time to devote to helping my sister and brother plan the funeral and mass. I was able to write a poem to express my feelings. And I was able to focus on helping my dad grieve the loss of his wife.
Because I was out of work, I thought, "What can I do that would make my father happy and give him something to look forward to?" I remembered that for years he had spoken about making a trip to NYC to see the place where he grew up and visit family on Long Island and go to the beach at Fire Island one last time. So I offered to take him, and brought along my three daughters. While on Long Island, we celebrated his 90th birthday, went to the beach, took a boat tour around Manhattan and visited the Metropolitan Museum of Art. We visited with his sister-in-law and niece. He said it was the best vacation he ever took.
Because I was out of work, I was able to stay with my dad at the hospital for ten days when he suddenly took ill in mid-August. He nearly died. His neighbor told me that he took my dad to visit his farm (he lives in a retirement home now). When I mentioned this to my wife, she urged me to tell the doctors to check for tick-borne illnesses. It turns out that my dad was bitten and contracted anaplasmosis. If they had not identified the cause, he would have died.
Because I was out of work, I was able to help my dad again when it was time to transition back from rehab to his assisted living apartment. Being familiar with his condition, when symptoms returned I urged his doctor to resume the antibiotics. As a result, he recovered rather than going down hill again.
Because I was out of work, I was able to attend to some much needed home maintenance, yard work, etc.
I believe that the Lord was in control of my time this summer. He had a plan, and it saved my father's life. It also enabled me to be strong for my family at a time when I might have been overwhelmed by grief and regret for not being able to help. The Lord used the opportunity for my girls to see NYC for the first time.
My father's recovery could easily be attributed to modern medicine, but after seeing several doctors advise hospice care for my dad and counsel that our family accept that my father would soon die, when one of them enthusiastically assured us that he would find the cause and followed through on that with many tests, frequent visits to my father and above-and-beyond care - plus listening to me when I suggested the possible cause - I am sure that God was supervising the entire matter.
Paul
Paul has a poem dedicated to his mother on the Christian Writers. Click Tall the Pond Grass Grows to read his poem.
The day after I lost my job, I went to visit my parents. My mom was in the hospital. I was able to speak to her on the last day she was conscious and able to speak and take the last picture of her that our family has of her alive. Had I been working, I would not have made the trip.
Being out of work, I had time to devote to helping my sister and brother plan the funeral and mass. I was able to write a poem to express my feelings. And I was able to focus on helping my dad grieve the loss of his wife.
Because I was out of work, I thought, "What can I do that would make my father happy and give him something to look forward to?" I remembered that for years he had spoken about making a trip to NYC to see the place where he grew up and visit family on Long Island and go to the beach at Fire Island one last time. So I offered to take him, and brought along my three daughters. While on Long Island, we celebrated his 90th birthday, went to the beach, took a boat tour around Manhattan and visited the Metropolitan Museum of Art. We visited with his sister-in-law and niece. He said it was the best vacation he ever took.
Because I was out of work, I was able to stay with my dad at the hospital for ten days when he suddenly took ill in mid-August. He nearly died. His neighbor told me that he took my dad to visit his farm (he lives in a retirement home now). When I mentioned this to my wife, she urged me to tell the doctors to check for tick-borne illnesses. It turns out that my dad was bitten and contracted anaplasmosis. If they had not identified the cause, he would have died.
Because I was out of work, I was able to help my dad again when it was time to transition back from rehab to his assisted living apartment. Being familiar with his condition, when symptoms returned I urged his doctor to resume the antibiotics. As a result, he recovered rather than going down hill again.
Because I was out of work, I was able to attend to some much needed home maintenance, yard work, etc.
I believe that the Lord was in control of my time this summer. He had a plan, and it saved my father's life. It also enabled me to be strong for my family at a time when I might have been overwhelmed by grief and regret for not being able to help. The Lord used the opportunity for my girls to see NYC for the first time.
My father's recovery could easily be attributed to modern medicine, but after seeing several doctors advise hospice care for my dad and counsel that our family accept that my father would soon die, when one of them enthusiastically assured us that he would find the cause and followed through on that with many tests, frequent visits to my father and above-and-beyond care - plus listening to me when I suggested the possible cause - I am sure that God was supervising the entire matter.
Paul
Paul has a poem dedicated to his mother on the Christian Writers. Click Tall the Pond Grass Grows to read his poem.
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