Walking off the floor of the WORSHIP television studio, I am told they need to speak to me. I am neither worried nor concerned. A few of the leaders and close personnel are waiting for me in the hallway.
Your brother has been in a car accident. They helicoptered him to the Trauma Unit at Tampa General Hospital.
Less than a blink.
Ok.
You should go to the hospital now, they tell me.
Ok.
I see them each look at each other as if I am not comprehending the information. They start to talk about joining me at the hospital. I see them suspiciously eyeing me.
But, they do not understand.
This very delicate line that exists.
Moments of grace. Moments of peace that passes all understanding. Moments where God lets me know – he is going to be ok. My brother is going to be ok.
Less than a moment of worry or doubt. Not even a breath of anxiety entered my body as the news of my brother’s accident was spoken. I was not in shock. I was not detached. I was not emotionally unavailable. I was there present in the moment, yet I knew beyond any rational thinking, evidence, or understanding that my brother was going to be ok.
God gave me a gift that day.
They all went with me to the hospital. Perhaps because they knew my brother too. Perhaps they were worried I couldn’t deal with the information. One of the men asked to ride with me to the hospital. I rolled my eyes a little at this. I remember him looking at me while I was driving as if he was trying to figure out if I was truly ok, or un-feeling, he couldn’t seem to guess the truth.
My brother was in surgery when we arrived at the hospital. A head wound from the car accident.
Head wounds bleed a lot.
We waited and prayed together for several hours before the surgeon told us the news of the surgery. My brother was going to be ok. They had to stitch the fine skin of his forehead back together, still he was going to be ok.
Relief did not wash over me with the news. For I already knew. In less than a moment, in less than a blink.
My brother’s Geo was totaled. The photos from the accident were horrifying. The police report of the accident was frightening.
It is a strange sensation, almost of existing in more than one place at the same time. For I understood the information, I understood the photographs, yet God – for some reason I don’t understand – did not want or allow me a moment of despair.
I knew my brother was going to be ok.
What God did not prepare me for, what God did not give me grace, peace, or understanding for was the demon of a drug, Dilantin.
That is the only way I can explain or describe that drug, a demon.
Looking at my brother’s eyes after his accident, I saw the depth and light extinguished, and this drug take up residence. It was unbearable to watch.
That demon drug, I could not be in the same room with.
It was a most difficult time for my brother. He spent a lot of time alone. He was grieving. He was angry. And, then he had to deal with the demon, Dilantin.
It was reported that he had a seizure at the accident which is why he was on Dilantin. He had never had seizures before or after.
It was several months after that demon drug before my brother started to return.
Everything in his life changed, the direction he was going, and the work he had been doing. He went back to school. He completed his Masters, then his PhD.
My brother has always been book-smarter than me.
I knew he was going through a great deal. I did not quite know how to contribute to his everyday life. What I did do for him as often I as could without him asking in advance, I offered him small things like food or drink. A glass of something to drink. Coffee or tea. A plate of food while he was working on his computer, grading or working on his dissertation. Paying for a movie here or there. Sometimes taking him to dinner.
It was the most I could do. Something small. A reminder that I saw him. I saw him working.
This is the most difficult thing to explain and express to people. Moments of grace. Moments of peace that passes all understanding. It is not as if I could stop and explain to everyone, don’t worry, I just had a phone call from God and he’s told me its going to be ok. It simply doesn’t work that way.
Less than a moment. I knew he was going to be ok.
God let me know, he was going to be ok.
WE - DO NOT AGREE! 