Miracles in the ER (34 page)

“I’ve never met a boy who could make people laugh like John. He would walk in a room with those blue eyes twinkling and people couldn’t help but start smiling. There was just something special about his spirit.”

“Momma told me about a time right after Christmas. Uncle Walter was at work and Aunt Jeanie had to go out of town. She’d told John to start taking down the decorations while she was gone, and Momma went over to check on him. When she got there, he was flying around the house on his Rollerblades, cramming stuff into a big black plastic bag. She said she would’ve yanked a knot in him if she coulda caught him.”

“Now that sounds like John.”

“What about the time…”

Moments of light. But always—always—the cloud.

A few weeks later, several of us were sitting with Walter and Jeanie in their living room. Bright sunshine filtered through the large windows, sharply contrasting with the somber mood within. Pictures of John were everywhere—on the mantel, tables, bookshelves. Maybe they had always been there and I was only noticing them now.

Jeanie sat beside her husband on the sofa. Her hand absently stroked a small glass frame—with a picture of John in a baseball uniform.

The conversation was strained, trivial. Walter nodded from time to time, but Jeanie was miles—worlds—away.

Someone asked her a question, but she didn’t answer. She looked down at the picture for a few moments, and a small smile started to appear on her face. She paused a moment longer, then set the frame on a nearby table.

“Listen, there is something I want to share with you all.” She folded her hands and leaned forward a bit. “It happened a day or so after John’s accident.”

Her eyes were brightening and her smile grew. A palpable energy began to fill the room.

“Just before the funeral, the four of us went to see John. We were still in shock, we still couldn’t believe it had all happened. One of the attendants at the funeral home showed us into the little room where John’s…casket was resting. I remember the man saying, ‘Stay as long as you need.’ And I’m thinking,
What I need is my son back.
”

Walter moved closer to his wife and gently laid a hand on her forearm.

“At first we just stood around him, all quiet. Walter and I tried to be strong for our girls. But how could we?” Her voice broke a little. “I prayed for some message of hope and reassurance for them—something undeniable, some small sign.” She looked down at her teacup on the table. “But I knew it wasn’t just for them. Walter and I needed it just as much.”

She paused and looked into her husband’s reddened eyes, reached over, and squeezed his hand.

“I was standing at the casket, looking down at him…at my son. He was dressed in his favorite saxophone shirt and blue-jean shorts. Then I looked down at his left wrist, and there was his watch, somehow still running after the accident. I didn’t know why, but it struck me as amazing, really remarkable. I began to stroke his hair, and I thought how normal it felt…how alive.” She stopped for a second, and took a sip of tea. “Then…
then I touched his skin. It was cold. And the reality of his death came crashing in once more.”

Tears were streaming down Jeanie’s cheeks now, but somehow she was still smiling.
How was she able to tell us this and find the strength to hold it together?
I bowed my head and rubbed the tears from my own eyes.

“We all held each other and we cried and cried. I silently prayed again for the Lord to give his peace to us…to put his arms around us…to let us know he was with us. My heart was, well, shattered, and I felt so terribly empty. I had no more words—nothing. But just at that moment, I found myself turning to Walter and the girls and saying, ‘The Lord
is
with us, and he wants us to know that.’

“And right then—
beep-beep…beep-beep-beep
! It was the alarm on John’s watch. It cut through the silence. We all looked at each other—we were stunned, just stunned. There’s no other word to describe it.

“And then we were able to smile at each other, even through our tears. In his love and kindness, the Lord had spoken to us. He was holding John—and his Holy Spirit was holding us.”

I
was stunned, and I watched as Walter put his arm around his wife. There was a powerful, peaceful hush in the room, and Jeanie leaned back in the sofa.

“And he’s
still
holding us.”

Two months later, the family traveled to Amelia Island. They needed to get away—relax—spend time together, alone. They had never been to this beach, and there would be no painful memories. Walter and Jeanie wanted it to be as “normal” as possible, if anything could ever be normal again.

It was a long trip from Rock Hill, and they collapsed into their beds soon after arriving. The next morning, Walter and Jeanie woke the sleepy girls and led them down the walkway to the beach. The tide was out, and the deserted sand stretched before them.

“I want us to see the sunrise,” Walter told his family. On the dark eastern horizon, a purplish light was rising, growing. Minutes passed, and the purple changed to red, then orange, and the glow gradually flooded the beach around them. This was God’s gift to his creation each morning—his promise of a new day, a new beginning.

“Look!”

Every eye was drawn to the sand at their feet. At first no one spoke, stunned by what they thought they were seeing. The light grew brighter and there was no longer any question. They laughed and cried and hugged each other.

Written in six-foot-high letters was the name

With humble thanks to Walter, Jeanie, Letty, and Maria—and with eternal praise to God the Holy Spirit, their Comforter and Friend.

Amen and amen.

Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see.

C.S. L
EWIS
(1898–1963)

About the Author

D
R
. R
OBERT
L
ESSLIE
, bestselling author of
Angels in the ER, Angels on the Night Shift, Notes from a Doctor’s Pocket,
and
Angels on Call, Angels and Heroes,
is a physician who lives and actively practices medicine in Rock Hill, South Carolina. Board-certified in both emergency medicine and occupational medicine, he is the co-owner of two busy urgent care/occupational clinics.

For more than 25 years, Dr. Lesslie worked in and directed several of the busiest ERs in the Charlotte, North Carolina, area. He also served as medical director of the emergency department at Rock Hill General Hospital for almost 15 years. During his tenure as medical director, he received the American Medical Association’s Continuing Education Award. He also traveled around the country, giving lively, innovative lectures to the Emergency Nurses Association at their annual meetings in major cities.

For seven years, Dr. Lesslie wrote a weekly medical column for
The Charlotte Observer
presenting a wide variety of topics, both medical and editorial. He also pens a regular column on medical, philosophical, and personal topics for the
YC,
a monthly publication in York County, North Carolina.

Dr. Lesslie enjoys the fast-paced environment of the ER and the need to make rapid and accurate diagnoses. He views his medical career as an opportunity to go beyond simply diagnosing and treating individual patients. For him, it is a way to fulfill a higher calling by meeting the real physical and emotional needs of his patients.

An active member of his home church in Rock Hill, Dr. Lesslie serves as an elder, and he and his wife, Barbara, teach Sunday school and sing in the church choir. They are also involved with an outreach program for disabled/handicapped individuals, Camp Joy, where Dr. Lesslie serves as the camp physician for a week each summer. He also enjoys mentoring high-school and college students considering a career in medicine.

Dr. Lesslie and his wife, Barbara, have been married for more than 35 years. Together they have raised four children—Lori, Amy, Robbie, and Jeffrey—and are now enjoying five grandchildren. In his spare time, Dr. Lesslie enjoys gardening, golf, hunting, reading, and bagpiping.

www.robertlesslie.com