I’m the baby of five. I haven’t seen one of my sisters and my only brother in years. Mona is my oldest sister from another mother, and Nina is my older sister from another father. Nina and I grew up together in the same household. While we always knew Mona as our sister, we didn’t live with her. Both of these chicks became mother hens when I was in the hospital.
My oldest sister and I don’t communicate often, but I love her dearly. She is genuine and kind but tough. Mona had her own resurrection experience five years prior to mine. After complications due to knee surgery, she developed a blood clot, which ultimately led to her heart stopping. They brought her back.
She had to relearn to walk and spent a month in a rehab hospital. Forever changed by her medical trauma, she knew all too well what I was going through. So, Mona visited me every day for nearly a year. She fasted and prayed for my recovery. Prayers were going up from all over the world from believers and non-believers alike. Family, friends and strangers were wishing me continued life.
Nina cared for me like her doll baby when we were younger. She fed me my bottles when our mother was ill, and mastered sliding down the staircase with me in her arms. She was 5 and I was only months old. As time went on, her role became more of my equal than of my big sis. Our personalities differ, but we think the same when it comes to what matters most. After our mother died, we were all that remained. We are family.
We were brought up in the church, and were taught not to mess around with things we did not understand. No ouija boards, no witchcraft, no hoodoo, voodoo or blasphemous speech. Pentecostal Christians didn’t wear large earrings or skirts above the knee to church, and we didn’t take the Lord’s name in vain.
There are things we do not understand in life that are commonly labeled supernatural. Intuition, vibes, bad mojo, chills, surges, roots-- the unexplainable. Thoughts of this nature began to sprout in the minds of my sisters. They believed someone put roots on me.
Mona and Nina had a conversation about the origin of my illness. For a time, the doctors could not figure out what was wrong with me. All they knew was that I had an aggressive respiratory infection. I was deteriorating rapidly. I required a ventilator and later an ECMO. It was strange because I was previously healthy. If this had occurred in 2020, it would scream COVID-19 Coronavirus. Whatever it was, my sisters believed someone was behind it.
Whether it's superstition or to be explained scientifically at a later time, some things require special attention by someone experienced in the area of the unknown. Mona was willing to place her hard earned savings in the hands of anyone who could potentially protect me from harm. Faith without works is dead. So Mona and Nina prayed and they hired back up, just in case.
Both of my sisters felt someone meant me harm. Plagued with this increasingly nagging feeling, Mona sought the counsel of someone she trusted who was familiar with this sort of thing. She was told someone was angry with me about money matters and resentful that we were no longer a romantic item. The truth is, more than one person could have fit that description.
I was blessed. My bed was blessed. My pillow was blessed. My home was blessed. Actions were taken to cover all bases. I believe in a higher power. I believe there is evil in the world. I know I’ve made an enemy or three, but I never considered that someone would wish death upon me.
I believe in God. I know He is the source of my medical miracle. When the medical professionals thought I was going to die, and I felt my life slipping away, God had plans to keep me above ground. But temporarily, my heart stopped beating.
There was a point when I was in an unknown realm. I didn’t see a white light, but I had an experience. I couldn’t see my body, but I could sense my presence. I was engulfed in darkness, but it wasn’t scary or menacing in any way. I was cloaked and comforted. Sitting in front of me, slightly to the right was a random shaggy, sandy brown mid-sized dog.
About a year later, I remembered that our family dog Springer died when I was seven. He was a medium-built Springer Spaniel Poodle mix with a shaggy, sandy coat. Springer strangled from his leash that was latched to the fence in the backyard. I hadn’t thought about him in decades.
The good book says to beware of fortune-tellers and soothsayers, but if you believe in the power of prayer isn’t there an opposing force?
If in fact, someone was up to no good, I now know that my Protector is stronger and my light shines brighter because "with his stripes, I am healed...". (Isaiah 53:5)
“My grandma and your grandma were sittin’ by the fire. My grandma told your grandma, gonna set your soul on fire!” ~Sugar Boy and his Cane Cutters
