Peace of Mind: Where's the app for that

You may have seen the television commercial featuring a character by the name of "Mayhem" who goes about creating all kinds of trouble for his innocent, unsuspecting victims. After each disaster he causes, Mayhem is heard to say,

"If you had [blank] insurance you'd be protected from mayhem like me."

Most people buy insurance to protect them from the unexpected—a sudden illness, car accident, house fire, travel mishap, and even death. People live each day with the element of surprise hanging over their heads. They leave home each day, drive to work, drop the kids off at school, board buses, trains and planes to go about routine activities— all without any certainty or guarantee of how their day will end.

Like mayhem, there is a real life character who also preys upon the lives of people for no other reason than to harm or defeat us. His name is Satan. You may be familiar with his other names—the devil, the accuser, thief and the father of lies. The bible calls Satan "the god of this world" because he rules earth and is responsible for all the evil and wickedness in the world (2 Corinthians 4:4). You see his influence in people who steal, lie, cheat, quarrel, murder, bully and inflict harm on others (Romans 1:29-32). In the bible Satan is depicted as a roaring lion on the prowl looking for someone to attack (1 Peter 5:8).

Satan could care less whether you are a Christian, some other religion or no religion at all. He's an equal opportunity destroyer who hates God, and wants to destroy everything that God has created. But here's the Good News. the God of the bible provides an insurance policy against Satan's attacks backed by faith in his Son, Jesus Christ. The bible says that Jesus came into the world to destroy the power of the devil over humankind.

God's insurance policy comes with an ironclad guarantee that anyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved (Romans 10:13). The only stipulation is that you accept the salvation that Jesus' death and resurrection provides. God's insurance policy is activated by saying a simple prayer like this:

Jesus, I confess that I am a sinner. I believe you died on the cross for my sins. Please forgive my sins, come into my heart and help me live the rest of my life for you.  

If you recited the prayer and meant it with all your heart, starting now whenever mayhem strikes, you'll have peace of mind knowing God's got you covered.

A Christmas Day miracle: When death took a detour

"Miracle - A surprising and welcome event that is not explicable by natural or scientific laws and is therefore considered to be the work of a divine agency."  Webster's dictionary

I have always believed in miracles, and hoped for them in my life from time to time. Looking back I can think of a few divine interventions in answer to my prayers, but there is one that tops them all — the miracle I experienced in 2002 on Christmas Day.  I have never forgotten what the Lord did that day. I have vowed to re-post my story each Christmas so that some reader may find hope and comfort in knowing that God is with us to the very end. The following is a true account of my Christmas miracle.

By 2002, I had been caring for my mom for 22 years during her long battle with Multiple Sclerosis (MS). By far, our toughest battles came that year. MS had taken away my mom's ability to speak and made eating and swallowing difficult. At the same time, mom started having seizures that became life-threatening. As a result, she was hospitalized and given high doses of the drug phenobarbital to quell the seizure activity. We finally left the hospital after 12 days, just three days before Christmas.

Although mom couldn't speak, her eyes said she was glad to be back home. We both were. After making her comfortable in bed, I checked the newly inserted feeding tube in her abdomen, and left her room feeling a little exhausted. When I returned, I noticed that mom was staring intently  toward the window in her room paying no attention to the fact that I had reentered her room. This was not like her. I was standing at the side of her bed, calling her name, and she didn't even notice me. Instead, she continued to focus on the window at the foot of her bed. Oddly, she had the most radiant glow on her face like nothing I'd ever seen. It made me think that she was seeing something that my eyes could not see. So I stood there silently waiting until she finally turned to notice me. I asked no questions of her as I prepared to bed her for the night.

The next morning the home-care nurse came by to check mom's vital signs. After she left, I bathed, dressed, and transferred mom to her wheelchair. She was a little weak but happy to be out of bed after the long hospital ordeal. We had lost some ground in our fight against MS during this latest hospital stay, but I told mother that we were not going to let MS get the better of us; we were in this fight to the end. Later that afternoon, sitting in her wheelchair, mom closed her eyes and slipped quietly into an unexpected coma. It was Christmas Eve.

I knew things didn't look good at that point, but I made the decision not to take her back to the hospital. She had made her wishes known in a Living Will and I was determined I would honor it. Going back to the hospital was not an option for us. It was mother's wish and mine that when death came, he would find her in her home. Even so, I held out hope that somehow mom would pull through as she had done in the past. I called for the home-care nurse, but she never came. Next, I called my older sister, and waited. During the long hours that I was alone with mom, I held her hand and talked to her. I believed that even in a coma, she could still hear me. Later that evening, my sister joined me in a bedside vigil for our mother. Together we watched, her knowing more than me, that imminent death was poised to take our mother from us. I remember talking about keeping mom hydrated and needing Pedialyte from the drugstore. My sister volunteered to go. It was after midnight when she left for the 24-hour pharmacy just a few blocks away. She was gone for an usually long time, which made me wonder if she was somewhere crying? I looked out the window.  It was snowing. I realized then it was Christmas Day.

Returning to mom's bedside,I continued gently stroking her arm and squeezing her hand. As I did this, I was startled by how ice cold she had suddenly become— like the life blood had drained from of her body. I checked to see if she was still breathing. She was, but just barely. Her breathing had become shallow and raspy like air escaping from a tire. I hurried to the other side of the bed to check her 1,000 ml drainage bag. By now, it should have been full from all the fluids she had been receiving through the feeding tube. Instead, it was empty except for reddish-brown residue in the bottom. My immediate thought was that her kidneys had shut down. For the first time during this whole ordeal, I allowed myself to entertain the real possibility that mom was slipping away— that death was imminent. I wasn't ready to let go, yet I didn't know what else to do. So, I cried out:

"Mom, it's Christmas. Please don't die on Christmas Day."

Suddenly, I got the urge to go to the bathroom. When I returned mom's bedside moments later, I took hold of her hand again. I noticed that something was different. Her hand, which was ice cold only moments ago, was noticeably warmer. My hands began to work their way around the rest of her— arms, legs,  feet, forehead—her whole body was now feverishly hot. I quickly hurried to the other side of the bed to check the drainage bag. To my surprise, the drainage bag that had only moments ago been empty was bursting beyond its capacity with pale, yellow urine. At that moment, I was struck with the stark realization that God was in the midst; had He heard my plea and had performed this miracle. God stopped death in its tracks.

Only God can make death take a detour. Knowing my mother, I imagine that there was some  negotiation between her and God that day just outside the gates of Heaven. I can picture her holding up one finger and saying to God, "Please Father God, let me go back for one more night?"  
And just like that HE granted her request.

Mom died the next day on December 26 that afternoon. My sister and I were together as mom breathed her last. This story could have ended there were it not for Jesus Christ, who came into this world so that we could have life. Because of Jesus, life doesn't end in the grave. Whoever believes in Jesus Christ has eternal life. I can't wait to see mother again I want to ask her what really happened on that fateful Christmas Day.