I Will Lift Up My Eyes

Your life can change forever in the blink of an eye. Such was the case when my cell phone rang and I answered it only to hear the panic and fear in our daughter-in-law, Carla’s, voice. “Buddy’s been in an accident! He had just loaded some cattle onto a truck and was shutting the heavy steel gate when a cow kicked the gate, causing it to crash into his face.” “Where is he now?” I asked. “He has been transported to the trauma unit in Asheville.” “We’ll pack our things and be on the road in an hour,” I assured her. Nine hours later we walked into our son’s hospital room. Once there it didn’t take us long to realize that we were listening to a miracle unfold. “I knew my injury was really serious,” Buddy said, “and I was afraid that I was going to black out. No one knew where I was or what I was doing. If I had blacked out I could have bled to death before anyone had found me, and the cattle could have come off the truck and trampled me.” But the Lord was with him in that pasture because he was able to lock the gate to keep the cattle on the truck, and then call 911 on his cell phone. Amazing, as there are few places on that mountain where one can get cell phone reception. After calling for help Buddy knew that he had to somehow get from the barn, down the mountain to his house so that if he blacked out he would do so in his yard where help would find him. Miraculously, he was able to do just that. Surgery was scheduled and would involve three teams of surgeons: neurosurgeons who would do two craniotomies to remove the bone fragments that had cut into the lining of the brain allowing spinal fluid to leak from his nose, maxi-facial surgeons who would work to reconstruct the damage to his face, and plastic surgeons who would work to rebuild the nose and the bone between the eyes. My son was taken down to surgery at 6:30 Sunday morning. When the surgery began, it soon became apparent that Buddy’s injuries were far worse than the CT scans had indicated and an ordeal that was expected to last five and a half hours lasted eleven. The surgery went well and after one day in ICU he was moved to a step-down unit with hopes that he would be able to go home on Thursday. However, by Thursday Buddy’s condition had worsened. He was on three different painkillers: morphine, oxycodone, and Percocet. Even these failed to relieve the pain. Still, we remained hopeful and prayed that he would be able to go home on Sunday. But by then he was much worse. The pain was now accompanied by nausea and vomiting, even though he had not eaten in nine days, and he was running a fever. His white blood count was high and they could not determine the location of the infection. That Sunday will live forever as one of the worst days of my life. When the accident first happened I had called a minister friend, Ron Childress, who has the gift of healing. At 11:30 that Sunday night he called me. “I have called to pray for your son….I’m going to ask God to send a healing angel to him.” At 9:00 the next morning when I walked into my son’s room, Carla looked up from his bedside. “How was your night?” I whispered. She replied, “We had a really good night; Buddy slept all night and so did I.” I was relieved to hear this, but was totally unprepared for what she said next. Carla went on, “I have to tell you, Jesus visited us last night! It was around 11:30. Buddy was asleep. The room was dark and I had my eyes closed. I was praying so hard. I was so afraid, so worried, so sad and heart-broken for Buddy when suddenly I realized that a light had come on in the room.” Carla continued, “I opened my eyes and Jesus was standing on the other side of Buddy’s bed. His face was so bright that I couldn’t see His features but I know He was smiling at me. He laid both hands on Buddy’s chest and in a few moments He was gone!” I stood there hardly moving. I was in awe! I remember thinking about the passage in the Bible that says “…and Mary pondered these things in her heart.” All day I pondered Carla’s experience in my heart. All day I contemplated the presence of Jesus at my son’s bedside and I thanked Him again and again for such grace, mercy and love. That day we had Buddy up most of the day. Our goal was to get him to eat. All day we would push him to eat tiny bits of Jell-O or take small sips of a protein drink. When his supper tray came, he thought he could eat something. I had just given him one bite when suddenly he lost everything he had eaten all day. As soon as I could, I called my minister friend again to ask him to continue to pray for my son. “Listen to me!” my friend said emphatically. “You must be praising God for the healing that is taking place in your son’s body right now!” Seven times he repeated this, each time with greater emphasis than the time before. After getting off the phone I went back into my son’s room and told Carla what he had said. Buddy is a member of Balsam Range, an internationally known bluegrass band. Thousands of people were keeping up with his progress and were praying for him. When I reported what the minister had told me, Carla immediately got on the internet and asked everyone to join us in praising God for the healing that was already taking place in Buddy’s body. After the accident happened I had thanked God that Buddy had not been killed. I had thanked God that he had not blacked out and had been able to call for help. I thanked Him for many things at that time. And of course, after the surgery, I thanked Him that it had gone so well. I thanked God for the wonderful doctors. But I must confess that as the days went by, when the pain was so terrible, when Buddy continued to get worse, and when he got an infection, I spent my time praying for the pain to go away, for his fever to break. I was so busy asking God for things, I confess that I spent little time thanking Him and I know that I did not praise Him. At 5:30 the next morning, I received a text message from Carla which read: “Amazing! This is the most amazing thing! Buddy jumped out of bed and is walking around the room whistling and cracking jokes. He had no pain medication all night.” He remained pain free for most of that day and was able to eat breakfast and lunch. The next day he was pain free all day and ate anything he wanted. The following day he went home and that evening he was in the recording studio with the other members of Balsam Range. “Amazing,” since we had been told that his recovery would take a minimum of six months! “Amazing” that once I stopped asking God for things He already knew Buddy needed, and started praising Him, my son’s condition dramatically improved! I have learned many lessons from this but the biggest lesson is the importance of praising God! I now understand that thanking God and praising God are two different things. Thanking God, I believe, is acknowledgment of something He has done. Praise, I feel, is acknowledgment of Who He is and complete adoration of His awesome grace, mercy, and power. I certainly continue to thank God throughout the day for all the blessings He bestows upon me, my family and friends, but I now also give Him praise as I quietly worship Him. My son was miraculously healed and for that and so much more, I give God the praise, honor, and glory He deserves.