More Than A Conqueror

I began writing this book in September of a very dark year for me, 2013. It was the eighth year I was in ministry, and to call that year challenging would be a crazy understatement. In January 2013, I suffered a stroke, of all things. I was sitting on the couch with my wife, Stefanie, and I was feeling very fatigued. She commented that I looked tired and suggested that I go downstairs and go to bed.

As I was walking toward the stairs, I suddenly lost all feeling in my right side. My right arm went numb and nothing would work, I went crashing to the floor. As hard as I tried, my right side wouldn't move and I couldn't get up. I was stuck there on the floor.

“Mike, what’s going on?” Stefanie was up in a flash leaning over me, asking me “What’s wrong?”

“I’m okay. I just got a little dizzy,” I told her—or so I thought I told her. It sounded clear enough to me, but from the look on her face, I knew something wasn’t right. We weren’t communicating.

What Stefanie heard coming out of my mouth was a bunch of garbled mumbo jumbo. She kept asking me questions, and I kept thinking I was answering, but I could see her distress was increasing every time I opened my mouth.

She grabbed the phone and stood over me while she dialed 911. As concerned as she was, she was so used to my pranks that she still took the time to threaten me: “Mike, you better not be joking with me!” she kept saying. “I’m calling an ambulance, so you better stop it if you’re joking!”

I admit, I had that coming. I have been known to pull a prank or two on her, but this was definitely not a prank.

Stefanie reached the 911 operator, who directed her to ask me some questions. That didn’t help my wife’s mindset any since each time I answered her, it was in more of the same garbled speech. I could see the panic building on her face, so I just stopped talking.

Our kids, Sofia and Ryland, were sleeping in the bedroom right at the top of the stairs. I thank the Lord that they were asleep at the time, so they didn’t hear any of what was going on. They didn’t have to see their father lying helpless on the ground like that, mumbling words that made no sense.

As I was lying there motionless, I couldn’t help but wonder, What’s happening to me? At the same time, though, I felt a sense of peace. I had peace in my spirit, and I knew everything was going to be all right because God had a plan for my life. Ever since I was a little kid, He’d had a plan. Even before I was born, He’d had a plan! That much I was sure of, even lying there on the floor. I was born for a purpose; I was on this planet for a reason. So are you and every other person God has created. We just have to discover and follow His plan. I knew His plan for me was still in process, so I had a peace that He would get us through whatever was going on with me.

Soon an ambulance showed up, along with several fire department volunteers and the police. Suddenly, my living room was full of people—six paramedics in all had shown up. Emergency personnel tried to get me up on the stretcher, considering I weighed in at close to 300 pounds, that was a feat of strength equal to anything the Conquerors strength team pulls off! Finally, they managed to lift me onto the gurney, carry me down my steps, and to the ambulance.

My in-laws stayed with the kids, and my wife climbed into the front seat of the ambulance with one paramedic. I was lying there in the back, of course, still thinking about my life, while the other paramedic kept an eye on me. My life didn’t flash before me, the way some people experience in a medical crisis. But I laid there wondering, What next, Lord?

As the sound of the siren echoed through the streets of Jenison, Michigan, I also wondered at one point, Will I make it out of this one? My life has been filled with difficulties and challenges, hardship and turmoil all along, but I have never felt as helpless as I did at that moment. Will my life ever be the same? I asked myself. Whatever’s happening, it’s bad and it’s major! I had to wonder if this was the end of life as I knew it. I’ve been through a lot of personal tests over the years, and I saw this as another test, or maybe an attack of the enemy. Was I now a conquered conqueror? Or was it an opportunity to be more than a conqueror? I remember praying, My life and my times are not in my hands; they’re in Yours, Lord. Let me know what to do next . . .

As the ambulance rushed me towards the hospital, the paramedic started some IVs. Once he got those in, he started asking me questions. About halfway to the hospital, I started to talk to him, and he yelled up to Stefanie and the driver that I was talking, even though I wasn’t making any sense. When he asked me what year it was, I told him 2016! I was only off by 3 years.

By the time we pulled into the hospital’s emergency entrance, I had started to recover some of the feeling in my right side. I even sat up as the paramedics were taking me out of the ambulance. They kept asking me questions again, like “What day is it?”

“Anthrax” was my answer to that one. I laugh at it now, but at the time, it didn’t seem very funny to my wife!