The Rest of the Story

Learning to hear God's voice has been a bumpy journey for me. Being saved when I was 9, my testimony is more about my growth in Jesus, verses my salvation testimony. After Curt and I had been married for a couple years, his Grandfather had to be moved to a nursing home. I don't remember all the details surrounding the reason, but I remember this; he was an angry agnostic, which was in direct conflict with his normal jovial personality. Any conversation about God, let alone Jesus was immediately shut down. 

One particular evening I was driving through town after church. It was getting late, it was dark, I was tired and I had to work the next morning. I was thinking about Curt's grandpa and his lack of faith in Jesus as I neared the turn to the nursing home he was in. At that moment I had this, let's call it "intuition," that I needed to go to the nursing home and visit him. 

But I was tired.

So I shook off the feeling and went home. Grandpa Bacon died that night. 

Fast forward a year or so.

I had driven to Dunlap, a neighboring town with our then three year old daughter, Emily. It was the beginning of September and pretty cool the morning I left. I dressed us both for the colder temps and took off to watch our nephew play JFL football. 

The temperature rose quickly and soon Emily and I were both hot, sweaty, sticky, and incredibly crabby. I was mentally cursing myself for not dressing in layers and as we drove back home the car's air conditioner began to cool us both off, and Emily finally fell asleep in her car seat. 

I took the route that went past where my dad lived. He had been in independent assisted living housing since his car accident ten years earlier. As a quadriplegic, he depended on contracted care takers for his needs. 

As I neared his home, I knew I needed to stop and see him, but Emily had fallen asleep and I was just starting to feel comfortable in my thick sweatshirt in the air-conditioning and so I drove past his turn and went home. 

Two days later I received a phone call at work that my dad had been taken to the emergency room. When his weekday caretaker arrived to relieve the weekend help, he was out of his mind, incoherent, and running a very high fever. He had been that way all weekend. My dad died a week later from Sepsis.

And I was beginning to learn to not ignore that still small voice.

When Curt began pastoring there was a gentleman by the name of Tollie at our first church. Tollie had a love for Jesus that shone through every facet of his being. You couldn't help but love Tollie.

Tollie developed cancer and was given a very short time to live. He was moved to a nursing home on the other side of town, not on the way to anything. 

I was driving towards home from Walmart late one night and that voice popped up urging me to go visit Tollie. It was almost 11:00, but nothing was going to stop me from being obedient. I got to Tollie's room and he was sleeping peacefully. As I held his hand and prayed over him, he woke up and smiled when he saw me. I asked him if there was anything he wanted and he asked me if I could read scripture to him. He had been unable to read God's word the last several days and he was missing it. As I picked up his old, worn Bible I asked where he wanted me to read and he requested Psalm 51, it was his favorite. 

When I finished with the psalm he shared with me why it was so important to him. You see, Tollie never got over that God had saved him. The fact that he was a sinner and Jesus would choose die in his place humbled him daily, if not hourly. Tollie shared his testimony with me, prayed for me, and then requested I read from the book of John. 

Somewhere around John 14, Tollie fell asleep and I knew I had done what I was supposed to do, so I quietly kissed his cheek and slipped out the door. 

Tollie died less than 20 minutes later. 

I've had many more experiences like these, that didn't involve dying, to know and recognize when God is calling me to something. His voice has become almost as clear as my own husband's. 

So on the morning of Wednesday, November 23rd, as I walked into Methodist Hospital in Peoria, I knew I wouldn't be meeting with the rest of the family to talk to the doctor. My mission was clear. I was supposed to go and read to my mother in law. 

My reading to her wasn't unusual. I had been reading random books to her for several days. It calmed and relaxed her, taking her mind off the pain she was in. I knew from the experience with my dad that just hearing someone in the room with you was comforting.

But this day was different. As I entered ICU I knew I was going to read scripture to her. I asked her permission and as she agreed she closed her eyes and appeared to rest.

I opened my Bible app to the book of Mark and slowly read about my Jesus. I added dramatic flair for my own entertainment, changing voices for the different people speaking, which drew an occasional smile from Sherry. 

As Jesus was entering Jerusalem at the Triumphal Entry, Sherry turned her head and looked at me and asked, "How can you have so much faith?"

So I put my phone to sleep and shared my testimony with her. I told her about how Jesus had saved me, what he had saved me from and what he did for me so that I could be with him forever. 

As I finished sharing I looked into her crystal blue eyes and said, "You can have that same kind of faith, Sherry." 

She closed her eyes and turned her head back to a sleeping position.

I've had the blessing of leading just a couple people to know Jesus as their personal savior. Normally there are a billion questions I try to answer, all the while praying fervently that I don't mess something up. It generally ends with the two of us praying together for Jesus to become their personal savior and reign in their heart above all else. Then we go about whatever it is we were doing, all the while I wonder if I "did it right." I continue to pray that the person was truly converted and that I didn't coerce them or leave something out. 

There's always this feeling that I can make or break their salvation. 

I had none of that as I was with Sherry that beautiful morning. As she turned her head to rest again I watched as God moved over her. I watched as God did His work. I watched as He drew her to Himself and when Sherry cried out in a loud voice, "Jesus, I believe, I love you, I believe!" all I could do was watch in silence, as God's peace washed her. 

Never in my life have I been an eye witness to anything so incredible. The moment she accepted what Jesus had done for her, making her a daughter of the King of all Kings was the same moment I realized how inconsequential my role is when it comes to salvation. 

It is God that does the work. He draws people to Him. He convicts and He accepts them. 

And He gives the peace that we all need. 

Watching my mother in law, this woman that we have been praying to receive salvation for years, come to know Jesus is the single greatest moment I have ever experienced. Watching her go from dead to alive before my very eyes rocked me. 

Nothing I said or did in that moment mattered. It was God that did the work. I was simply obedient. I read to her and shared who God is to me. That was it. 

As Sherry closed her eyes I reopened my Bible app and finished the book of Mark. The invisible burden that she had been carrying was gone. I could feel the change that had occurred in that room. 

As Curt entered after meeting with the doctor I could tell that the news wasn't good, but that was only from our perspective. Because in the ICU room salvation had come and that was very good news indeed. 

As we talked with Sherry and told her what the options were, she looked up at us in a different way. When she pleaded, "Please, just let me go. Let me die." it was a little less painful to say, "We will." knowing this life is only temporary and that she would soon be with Jesus for all of eternity.

Sherry died less than 12 hours later. No one expected it to be that quick. The shock of going from a broken leg to death in a week and a half still hasn't quite worn off, but neither has the knowledge and acceptance of how good our God is. He answers prayers, in His timing. We don't know when or how that will be, but He does. 

Our job is to simply be obedient.