Entertaining Strangers

Entertaining Strangers

Originally published in Chicken Soup for the Soul, Kindness Matters

Let brotherly love continue. Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have  entertained angels unaware. 

~Hebrews 13:1–2 KJV 

Rushing, rushing… always rushing! That was my life, rushing from one appointment or  obligation to the next… until the day I met Jim. 

That day started like most days for me. My husband, John, had an appointment at the  veterans’ medical center in Long Beach, California at 10:30 A.M. and a second appointment at  another VA facility thirty miles away at 1:00 P.M. 

On this hot summer day the freeway was packed, and an accident was holding up traffic. As we inched along, I realized we were probably going to be late for the morning appointment. It  is difficult for John to walk very far, let alone hurry. So, when we got there I pulled right up to  the entrance and let him out. Then I zoomed down the drive to look for a parking place. 

“Come on, God, help me find a parking place… please!” Divine intervention was the  only way I was going to find a place to park as I surveyed the cars filling every spot. I turned left  and started down the next aisle and then slammed on my brakes as an older man crossed in front  of me, leaning on his cane. Finally, I saw someone backing out of a parking spot and rushed to  pull in as soon as the other car was clear. 

I grabbed my purse and ran up to the medical center. I found John waiting, and we took  the elevator up to the fourth floor. By now, we were half an hour late, so we had to wait until  they could work him in. It was a lengthy wait, and we weren’t finished until after noon. 

Now, we were in danger of being late for the second appointment! “You wait here on the  bench by the door,” I told John. “I will go get the car and pick you up.” 

“Okay,” he agreed and sat down on the bench while I rushed off to get the car. I found the car, and as I backed out, I saw the same older gentleman I nearly hit in the  parking lot earlier now walk behind my car! What was he still doing out there? I started to leave the parking lot, but my conscience wouldn’t let me. I glanced at my  watch—yes, we still might be able to make the appointment if we left right now—but I couldn’t  leave until I knew the man was okay. 

I drove up and down the aisles looking for him but didn’t see him. Maybe he had found  his car and I could go pick up John. But then, as I drove down the last aisle, I saw the man sitting  on the curb, wiping his face with a handkerchief. 

I rolled down my window, and the hot air rushed in. “Are you okay?” I called out to him.

“No,” he replied without looking up. “I can’t find my truck, and I’ve been walking all  over this lot. I just had to sit down. I don’t know what to do.” 

I checked my watch; it was 12:20. Although time was ticking away, I felt like God had  literally put the man in my path twice and wanted me to help him. 

“Why don’t you get in my car, and we’ll drive around to find your truck.”

“I don’t want to bother you,” he said, shaking his head. 

“It’s no bother, and it will be a lot cooler in here,” I assured him. 

“Okay, thanks,” he said as he tried to get up. 

“Let me help you up.” I jumped out and went around the car to give him a hand. “My  name is Judee. What’s your name?”

“My name’s Jim, and I sure do appreciate this. I didn’t know what I was going to do. It’s  so hot out here!” 

He struggled to his feet, and I helped him into my car. “I’m so embarrassed,” he told me  as I got back in the car. “I’m eighty-six years old and normally very independent, but today I just  couldn’t remember where I parked!” 

“Don’t feel bad,” I told him. “These parking lots are huge, and sometimes I don’t  remember where I parked either. Now, what color is your truck?” 

“It’s white, and I remember the front was facing toward the street.” 

There were probably hundreds of white cars and trucks in the lot. This wasn’t going to be  easy. 

“Don’t worry, Jim,” I told him as I began driving slowly up and down the packed aisles. “We’ll find it.” 

We didn’t find his truck in that lot, so I drove out and into the next lot. As I looked to the  left, I saw my puzzled husband stand up when he saw me drive by. I was going to have some  explaining to do when this was over! 

We drove slowly through the second parking lot and then the third one. We were heading  down the last row when suddenly Jim shouted, “There it is! Right there, facing the street.” I stopped the car and got out to help him.

“I told you we’d find your truck, Jim.” He took my hand and got out, leaning on his cane.

“Gosh, I was never so glad to see that  old truck!” he exclaimed. “How can I ever thank you?” 

“Just give me a hug, and we’ll call it even.” 

He hugged me there in the parking lot and walked away to his truck. I waited to be sure  he got in okay, and just before he climbed in, he turned and waved goodbye. “God bless you,  dear,” he called out, giving me a wink and a big smile. 

As I drove back to the entrance to pick up my husband, I reflected on this encounter and  felt tears running down my face.  

“Thank you, God, for slowing me down and helping me remember what is really  important to you.” 

“Who was that man, and why are you crying?” John asked me. 

“It’s a long story,” I told him, “but I think God just sent me an ‘angel to entertain.’” 

~Judee Stapp

Blessed and Grateful

 

Blessed and Grateful

Originally published in Chicken Soup for the Soul, Miracles and the Unexplained

Prayer is man’s greatest power.

~W. Clement Stone

 

“What seems to be the problem?” my doctor asked me on a cold, gray day in late December.

“I feel my heart flutter sometimes like it’s missing a beat and I get so shaky,” I answered. “It’s often hard to get my breath when I’m going up the stairs.”

“Well, let’s get some definitive tests to see what’s going on,” she said after listening to my heart. She smiled and gave me the phone number to call and set up the test.

I had the scan a few days later. After seeing the results, that doctor said, “Judee, I see a blockage and I want you to see a cardiologist right away. I am putting in an emergency referral.”

I was pretty scared when I went to see the cardiologist. “Well,” he said, “my colleagues and I are confirming a major blockage.”

Four doctors can’t be wrong, I thought to myself. I was so frightened that I really didn’t comprehend his detailed description of what needed to be done. I think the doctor could see how stunned I was and softened his approach from clinical facts to gentleness. He patted my hand and said, “It is quite serious, but we found it in time, so try not to worry. We are going to do a heart catheterization and try to remove the blockage by putting a stent in that artery to hold it open.”

“Oh Lord, please help me,” I prayed silently as I stared at him.

“When will you do this?” I asked him.

“I think it is important to do this right away,” he answered quietly. “My nurse has set up the procedure for the day after tomorrow.”

“We will go into through an artery in your wrist,” he continued. “It is less invasive than going in through the groin. If we can’t place the stent effectively, we will schedule open heart surgery in a week or so.” He patted my hand and went on. “I want you to go home and rest. Don’t have any caffeine, stress or worry and only go up the stairs once a day—when you are going to bed.”

Right. Don’t worry after receiving news that could change or even end my life!

He handed me two prescriptions for medications that were supposed to slow down my heart rate and keep plaque from forming in the arteries in the future.

“Remember, don’t worry. We’ve done this procedure many, many times,” he assured me.

I called my daughter, Michele, in Minnesota to let her know I was going to have the heart catheterization procedure. She got on a plane the next day and flew out to support me and take care of my disabled husband, John.

I called the rest of my family and friends at church. They spread the word and soon people were praying for me everywhere. My book club, couples’ Bible study, pastors, and people I didn’t even know were praying for both me and the doctors.

I felt like I had a ticking time bomb inside me! I was almost afraid to walk around the house. I spent most of the time sitting in my recliner. Michele took care of us and handled all the calls coming in.

I checked into the hospital on the appointed day and the nurses prepared me for the procedure. I was praying hard that I would come though the ordeal alive.

Michele hugged me. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’m right here for you,” The nurse gave me a shot to calm me as Michele held my hand and prayed with me before they took me to the operating room. “I will be right here with John waiting for you.” I could see her encouraging smile as they wheeled me down the hall.

When we reached the operating room, they were trying to put the IV in my arm to put me to sleep. My whole body was trembling so badly that a nurse had to hold my arm still. Instead of being calm from the shot and the IV, I dreamed that I was drowning in a lake. I was fighting to stay above the wild waves, but I kept sinking. Every time I got my head above the water, the shore was farther away! I kept yelling for help but there was no one around and I was getting weaker. In my panic I called out to God, “Lord, please save me!”

I heard a quiet voice say, “Fear not; for I am with you; don’t be afraid; for I am your God: I will strengthen you, and yes, I will help you.” I recognized the soothing words from the Bible. The waves quieted and I heard the reassuring voice again. “I am the Lord who heals you.”

When I began to wake up, I was a little confused about where I was. But when I turned my head I saw Michele and John just where she promised they would be. The nurses taking care of me were working to raise my blood pressure. Apparently, the shot they had given me had slowed my heart too much during surgery and I had almost died. That must have been when the Lord stepped in during the dream I had.

“You gave the doctor quite a scare in there,” the nurse told me. “Just lie quietly for a while and let the medicine get your heart rate up.”

It was quite a while before the doctor came in. He looked puzzled as we waited for him to speak. Finally, he said, “Well, we’ve gone over the previous scans and tests and today’s results several times.” I was anxious to hear the result, but strangely, I wasn’t frightened.

“We really can’t explain it. The obstruction was plainly visible in all the tests but when we got in there, the blockage was not there. I don’t have any medical explanation for it, but we didn’t even have to place any stents. I do want you to stay on half doses of the medicines just to be sure and I want you to come back in three months to be checked again.”

If I hadn’t been hooked up to all those tubes I would have jumped up and danced! Michele, John and I hugged each other. I felt so blessed and grateful! Every day is now a celebration of life.

We eat dessert first sometimes. I donated our old towels to an animal shelter and we use the good ones every day. We volunteer and open our home and hearts to family and friends. We cherish every moment and never end the day without counting our many blessings.

~Judee Stapp

Faith is the Key

 

Faith is the Key
Originally published in Chicken Soup for the Soul, Believe in Miracles

Keep faith. The most amazing things in life tend to happen right at the moment you’re about to give up hope.

~Author Unknown

I loved working with fourth- and fifth-graders at the lunchtime Bible Club. The kids enjoyed coming and were eager to learn. Every Tuesday, I checked in at the school office, gathered the enrolled children after they finished their lunch, and walked them across a huge football field through a back gate to the portable chapel and the teacher. After the lesson, I walked the kids back across the field to the school and then retraced my steps back to the chapel and locked the gate behind me.

We had one key for that gate, and it had never been a problem until one rainy day in March. The lesson had gone well, and the kids were back in their classrooms. After I crossed the field again, I went to lock the padlock on the gate, but I didn’t have the key in my pocket!

I searched my pockets again and then I went back to the chapel. The teacher and I searched the chapel from top to bottom. No key! I was beginning to panic. I went to the school office and asked if anyone had found the key and turned it in.

“No one turned in the key,” the secretary said, “and if you can’t find it, we’ll have to rekey all the exterior padlocks at every gate to the school for security!”

She was not at all happy with me, and I was embarrassed to tell the Bible Club Director what had happened. She did have one spare key so we could get in the following Tuesday, but I spent that week racking my brain and praying that the key would be found.

The next Tuesday, I used the spare key to open the gate’s padlock. After gathering the children at the edge of the field for the walk to the chapel, I told them that I had lost the key and had looked everywhere I could think of. “Can you all spread out along the blacktop here and look for the key on the way to the chapel? It would really be wonderful if you could help me find it. This field is the only place I haven’t searched.” The kids looked across that huge football field and the rows of heaped, wet grass left by the big mowing machine.

“We’ll never find that little bitty key. The grass is too deep, and this field is too big!” they groaned.

“Yes, the key is small and the field is big, but we have an even bigger God who can do awesome things! We have to trust Him and think positively. Will you help me and have faith?” I asked.

“Okay,” they agreed reluctantly. It didn’t sound like they had much hope of finding one small key in that big field.

“God,” I prayed, “if that key is in this field, please give us a miracle today so the kids will know how important our small problems are to you and how much you love us.”

The eight kids and I spread ourselves about four feet apart and started across the field, walking slowly and looking down. Suddenly, two little girls ahead of me shouted excitedly, “We found it! We found the key!” The small girl who had stepped on the key only weighed about seventy pounds! How could she have even felt it in the deep grass?

We all ran to them and, sure enough, that tiny key with the little plastic tag attached was nestled in the palm of her hand. All of the kids were jumping up and down in disbelief. I think they thought I was crazy when I started running around the field with my arms stretched out wide like an airplane and yelling, “Thank you, God! Thank you for helping us find the key! You are awesome, God!”

The kids watched me for a couple of minutes and then joined me in spinning and dancing through the grass piles. We all ran toward the gate with our arms wide, yelling our thanks to God. “Do we get a prize for finding the key?” they asked.

“Yes, everyone gets a piece of candy!” Usually, they only got candy for bringing their Bibles to class.

The kids burst into the chapel and shouted to the teacher. “Mrs. Stapp said we get candy! We found the key!” The teacher broke out in a happy smile, and everyone joined in a prayer of thanks, followed by the candy reward.

I don’t know if the children will remember the planned lesson from that particular day, but we will all remember witnessing a miracle in that field.

 

~ Judee Stapp

Hymns of Praise

 

Hymns of Praise

Originally published in Chicken Soup for the Soul, Think Positive, Live Happy

 

The sun is a daily reminder that we too can rise again from the darkness, that we too can shine our own light.

~S. Ajna

 

“What do you mean I have cancer? There’s no cancer in my family! That’s impossible.”

But it was possible. I stared helplessly at the doctor who had performed the colonoscopy. He patted my hand and told me not to worry. My niece and my husband sat with their mouths slightly open, as stunned as I was.

This couldn’t be happening! I couldn’t take it in. My best friend had just passed away a month before after fighting her cancer for four years. I had been with her at her appointments and chemotherapy treatments. I had watched her fight fearlessly. Her faith grew stronger as her body grew weaker. How I wished Joanie were with me now. But, in a way, she was.

As I navigated countless tests and scans, her face was before me. I tried to emulate her courage as I canceled our twenty-fifth anniversary trip; my surgery would be right on our anniversary. My daughter flew out from Minnesota to be with us during this time and take care of my disabled husband while I was in the hospital.

I had a lot of people praying for me, but I was still in pain when I woke up in the hospital. I asked the nurses to keep the shades shut and the door closed. Every bit of light or noise seemed to intensify the pain.

One morning after being medicated, I had settled down to try to nap in the darkened room. Just as I was feeling drowsy, the door opened a crack, and a man peeked in. “Is it okay if I come in and clean your room?” he asked. He had a big smile on his face, so I refrained from throwing my pillow at him.

“Sure, come on in,” I answered without any enthusiasm.

“Can I turn on the lights so I can see to clean?”

Oh, great, lights, too, I thought to myself. But I just said, “Sure.”

I closed my eyes against the light and hoped he would finish and go away. Surely with my eyes closed, he would see that I didn’t want to “chat.”

“You should open these shades and let the sunshine into your life,” the man said as he pulled them open. “It’s a beautiful day out there!”

I didn’t answer or open my eyes. He returned to cleaning the bathroom while humming a hymn! What was wrong with him? Couldn’t he read my signals?

“Do you like hymns?” he asked.

“Yes, I usually do, but I’m not feeling very well today.”

“Oh, I will cheer you up. I love hymns, too.” Now he added words and sang his way around my room.

Lord, I thought, why did you send this guy to me? I kept my eyes closed.

“Do you go to church?” he asked.

“Yes, I do,” I told him. “Eastside Christian church.”

“You do? That’s where I go, too. They play praise songs there, which is great, but I love the old hymns, too.”

I opened my eyes wide now, and we began to talk to each other.

God, you must have sent this guy to sing to me and break through my fog of pain. Thank you, Lord.

As my new friend finished up the room, he shared with me that he had been an executive with a company that designed high-end wine cellars. He had traveled all over the country installing them in the homes of celebrities and other wealthy people.

“A few months ago, I was laid off,” he told me, “and I didn’t know what I was going to do to take care of my family. My wife went back to work, but I couldn’t find anything. Then a couple of days ago, this job just dropped in my lap. I can tell you, I was glad to get it. It doesn’t pay much, but I love cheering up the patients.”

“You certainly did that for me,” I told him. “I’m glad you came into my room and my life at this moment.”

Before he left, he asked if he could pray for me, and it was a lovely prayer of hope and encouragement. He came every day that I was there and filled my room and my heart with joy as he sang his hymns and left me with a prayer.

My attitude really changed after that. I was alive. They had discovered the cancer early, at stage 2, and I didn’t even need chemotherapy. I was so grateful.

I haven’t had any recurrence of the cancer since the operation, and I am thankful every single day. I look for all the good and happy things around me. My husband and I are starting to travel. Sometimes, we eat dessert first. I donated our old towels to an animal shelter, and we use the good ones every day. We volunteer and open our home and hearts to family and friends. We never end the day without counting our many blessings.

Every day, I “open the shades and let the sunshine into my life.” That was the best advice I’d ever heard, received just when I wanted to give up. My heart is filled with joy, and I want to spread that to others like the man who cleaned up my hospital room—and my attitude.

~Judee Stapp

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

 

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

Originally published in Chicken Soup for the Soul, Miracles and More

 

Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.

~Maya Angelou

 The divorce had been rough, and the ongoing legal struggles were exhausting. I slumped in the pew one gloomy Sunday morning. The gray day seemed to penetrate the inside of the church and my mood as I sat there and prayed, “God, if you just get me out of this mess, I promise I will never, ever get married again!”

I think God must have smiled at my offer. Immediately, I was given a vision or a premonition—and it scared me to death!

I saw myself getting ready to walk down the left aisle of our church with my adult children, Darren and Michele, my son-in-law, Tim, and my grandson, Kristopher. Although Kristopher was their only child, Michele was carrying a little, dark-haired girl about two years old. Coming down the right aisle was a tall man holding the hand of a little girl. The altar was filled with beautiful, pink flowers!

The vision only lasted a few seconds, but it was so real that I was shaking and confused. I thought about it for a few days and then forgot about it as I struggled to survive. Working two jobs, I had no social life at all.

I did enjoy watching our local baseball team, the California Angels, on TV. Finally, at my friends’ urging, I joined the Angels Booster Club. It was fun to attend the baseball games as a group and hand out give-away items at the gates. While working the gates, I met John, one of the club members. He was so friendly, and we talked and laughed a lot.

Whenever the team was out of town, a group of us would gather to watch the Angels on TV. John was always present and hopeful of a relationship, but I told him, “I enjoy being with you, but I’m not interested in anything more.” He would just nod his head and smile.

One day, John’s parents invited me to their house for a party. John had an adorable daughter, Jamie, and it was her sixth birthday. I knew he had a little girl, but he was pretty protective of her and hadn’t introduced us until he was sure about his feelings for me. She and I bonded immediately, but I told John, “I still don’t want to get married again—ever.” John just smiled and nodded his head in that infuriating way of his. I responded with an adamant, “I mean it!”

“I know you do—now,” he replied, grinning.

I took the problem to God. “Why won’t he believe me? I don’t want to hurt him, God, but I just don’t want to get married again.”

One day, John and I were sitting at the park watching Jamie play on the monkey bars. “You know,” John said quietly, “we might as well get married. We’re together all the time, and we get along so well. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

I had a lump in my throat as I sat there staring at him and then at his sweet girl. Neither of us spoke for a long time, and then I said, “I can’t imagine my life without both of you, either.”

We decided on a February church wedding and a reception at Angel Stadium where we had met. Michele and Tim came from Minnesota to visit us in October and arrived with Kristopher, now four years old, and two-year-old, Kelly, my little, dark-haired granddaughter.

On Wednesday of their weeklong visit, Michele said to me, “Mom, we’re going to start building our new house, and we won’t be able to come back in February for your wedding.”

“What shall we do?” I asked John.

With his usual calm, he asked me, “What’s more important to you—to have all the kids there or to have the wedding we planned in February?”

When he said that, I remembered that vision from three years before. “It’s definitely more important to have all the kids there,” I replied, “but how can we pull this together so quickly?”

“We’ll just split up all the tasks, and everyone can help,” he replied confidently.

I called my friend, Betty, who worked at a nursery. “John and I are getting married on Saturday. Can you help with the flowers?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it,” she replied calmly. “What color is your dress?”

“I don’t have one yet!” In fact, I hadn’t even thought about it.

“Okay,” Betty said, “your flowers will be pink. Pink will go with any color you choose.”

I called our Booster Club friends to see if they could serve refreshments. They jumped right in and even planned to wear their Booster Club shirts.

Another friend, Isobel, offered to make our wedding cake. “No one else can make your cake and put all the love into it that I can,” she said.

Everyone pitched in. Some made calls since we had no time to send invitations. Others offered to decorate and make punch. “I’ll get napkins, plates and cups,” my future father-in-law volunteered. I wondered if it would all match when the pieces were put together.

At the rehearsal, I told our pastor about my vision. “I think it was a picture from God,” I explained, “so I want to walk down the left aisle with my children and grandchildren while John walks down the right aisle with his daughter. Then we can all come out the center aisle together as one family.”

“I think that’s a fine idea,” he agreed, smiling.

On Saturday, I walked into the church reception hall, and everything looked beautiful! Everything that our friends and family had prepared fit together beautifully. Isobel’s cake looked like three layers of love and deliciousness. There were the plates and napkins with our names printed on them as promised. And—everything was pink!

Just before we were to walk down the aisle, Kelly slipped and started to cry, so Michele picked her up and held her, and we walked down the aisle together just as I had seen in my vision.

The pastor even included all the kids in the ceremony. After we said our vows, he had us all clasp hands on top of my Bible and asked my children, “Do you promise to respect and honor John and this marriage?”

“Yes, we do,” they promised.

Turning to Jamie, the pastor asked her, “Do you promise to respect and honor Judee as your stepmother?”

“I do,” she answered in a solemn, small voice.

“Then I pronounce this family is one in the sight of God and these witnesses!” announced the pastor.

As we started our journey together down the center aisle, we laughed out loud as the organist played a dignified rendition of “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” on the church organ. We had heard that song hundreds of times, but now we would hear our song at every baseball game!

 

~Judee Stapp

A Flash of Faith

 A Flash of Faith

Originally published in Chicken Soup for the Soul, Hope and Miracles

 

One machine can do the work of fifty ordinary men. No machine can do the work of one extraordinary man.

Elbert Hubbard

 

Oh no! This couldn’t be happening! In an instant, my routine day took a disastrous turn! I sat down in my home office to work, slipped the little flash drive into my computer and clicked to open it. The light on the front blinked on for a second and went out. I clicked a second, third, and then a fourth time... nothing but a blink and then darkness! I pulled out the flash drive and inserted it into a different USB port and clicked... then sat up straighter, now fully awake. Why wasn’t the flash drive opening so I could access the data? My whole life was on that flash drive! I took it out and looked at it carefully. The center part that fit into the USB port was loose, and a wire stuck out on the side! I taped around the entire apparatus and inserted it again. The light came on for a couple of seconds and then went out!

In retrospect I realize it was crazy to put everything on that flash drive. I took it back and forth to work, always in too big of a rush to run back-ups.

Sometimes we take technology for granted, and I was scrambling to remember exactly what was on that small bit of metal and plastic—work logs, ideas, and fundraising projects. I had placed all my personal data on that drive including Christmas lists, family photos, and recipes. It held all my personal business documents, writing notes, and speeches. All lost! I felt angry and stupid! Why had I put everything on that small, three-inch drive that wasn’t even as big as my finger! It was just so convenient to always have my life right there in the pocket of my purse! But now what?

I took the flash drive into three major computer stores to see if they could extract the data. The light would come on for a second or two and then go out just like it had for me. A clerk at the last store gave me a pamphlet for a data recovery company.

I rushed home to call, and the man who answered was confident. “Just mail it to us. We’ll take the case apart, solder the wires, and recover your data.”

I felt myself relax at that good news and asked, “About how much will that cost?”

“Oh,” he replied, “between $1,000 and $2,700.”

I felt my heart sink. There was no way I could afford that! Life went on but every time I started to type something, I realized what I needed was on that ruined flash drive. I had to re-create each document, slowing down every project I worked on.

About a month later I was downloading flash drives of photos onto my computer. (Yes, I was faithfully backing up everything by then.) When I finished, I put the drives into the tray on my desk and noticed my useless flash drive there. I started to toss it into the trash to be rid of the daily reminder of my frustrating failure, but something made me pause.

Realizing that I hadn’t asked God to help me, I knelt down with the flash drive in my hand and prayed. I told God that I knew I had been wrong to place my faith in that piece of technology instead of in Him. I had put my trust in something I thought would always be there and it failed me as the things of this world will.

“Lord, from now on I will place my life in Your hands and never take any of my blessings for granted.” I got up from my knees and plugged the flash drive into my computer with a hopeful heart. Wait! Was the light on the flash drive on? I couldn’t believe it! Was it possible?

My hands were shaking as I opened the drive to view the files. They were all there! I quickly copied everything into my computer. Once the download completed, the light on the flash drive went out, and nothing I could do would make it come on again! Holding my breath, I checked my hard drive to see what transferred.

Remarkably, everything was there! All the data was perfectly useable! Tears ran down my face. God had extended me grace and a real miracle! I framed that little flash drive, and I keep it on my desk as a reminder to place my trust in God and His power to restore, to never give up hope, and to always believe in miracles.

 

~Judee Stapp

Sacrifices

Sacrifices

Originally published in Chicken Soup for the Soul, Spirit of America

America was not built on fear. America was built on courage, on imagination and an unbeatable determination to do the job at hand. ~Harry Truman

I felt like my heart was being torn in two! My daughter, Michele, bought tickets for me to attend a Christian Women’s Conference in Minnesota with her and my granddaughter, Katie. Around the same time Katie would be turning twenty-one years old and I really wanted to be there for that special celebration.

The problem was that I couldn’t leave my husband, John, at our home in California alone. He is 100% disabled due to PTSD contracted after his service in Vietnam, which left him with nightmares and depression. He has epilepsy and the seizures occur randomly. The seizures have gradually affected his brain until he has very little short-term memory. He is waiting for carpal tunnel surgery for tremors in his hand and has therapy for fall prevention due to a loss of balance and several bad falls. He has to wear a CPAP machine at night for sleep apnea and needs help hooking it up. He can no longer drive and I have to administer his pills morning and night so he won’t forget. How could I leave him?

John’s psychologist at the VA told us about a respite program where caregivers can leave their loved ones twice a year for fifteen days to give them a break. She called the program for us and found out that John more than qualified for the program and asked the social worker to call me.

Monique, the social worker, called to ask me when I needed to leave John and I gave her the dates in October. “Oh,” she said, “we are booked through January. I’m so sorry.”

“Do you have a waiting list?” I asked her.

“No, I’m sorry, we don’t, but you can check back from time to time to see if there have been cancellations.”

“Okay, thank you.” My heart was heavy when I called Michele to tell her I didn’t think I would be able to come.

“You should just get your ticket in case something changes,” she suggested.

I waited a few weeks and then called Monique at the VA. “Have there been any cancellations?” I asked her.

“No,” she replied, “and now there are no vacancies until February.”

I talked it over with John and he kept telling me to just go—that he would be fine at home by himself. I didn’t feel like I could leave him alone for twelve days. What if he had a seizure or fell down the stairs? No one would be there to help him. There was no way he could skip his medications even once and I knew that although he tried hard to take care of himself, he wouldn’t remember to take his pills on time.

“Just get your ticket and go,” he begged me. “I’ll be fine.”

I was so uncertain about what to do. I really wanted to visit Michele and her family. It had been three years since I had been there for Katie’s graduation. I prayed, “God, I feel so confused. If You want me to go to Minnesota, please help me because I don’t know how to make this happen.”

The very next morning, Monique called me. “Don’t get too excited,” she began, “but some dates have been freed up in October. Tell me again what dates you wanted to go on your trip.”

My voice was shaking as I told her, “I wanted to leave on the seventh to be there for Katie’s birthday and return on the nineteenth after the Christian conference.” There was no answer from Monique. “Are you still there?” I asked her.

“Yes—yes,” she replied. “Those are the exact dates that opened up! That is so weird!”

“No,” I told her. “That is God at work.” I told her about praying for God to work it out since I didn’t know what else to do myself. “How does it feel to have God use you and the VA to make someone’s dream come true?”

By the time we hung up, we were both crying. I thanked God then, still in disbelief that He had worked this all out for us. “You are amazing, God. Now, if you can help me convince John, I will be even more thankful!”

I explained to John that the dates had opened up and he could stay at the VA while I was gone.

“No, I don’t want to stay there! I can take care of myself!”

Trying to be patient, I told him, “I know you might be fine, but you also might have a seizure or a fall and no one would be here with you. Will you please stay at the VA to give me peace of mind? I would feel so terrible if something happened to you while I was gone. I would worry about you the whole time.”

“I don’t need someone to take care of me!” he protested. This once able-bodied soldier had received a Purple Heart and a bronze cross for his service. He didn’t want to be “taken care of” like a child.

“I know you MIGHT not need help, but you can’t drive either. If you stay at the VA, they will take you to your appointments and therapies so you won’t miss any. You will have other veterans to talk to and they always have something fun going on for the residents.”

“Okay,” he finally agreed. “I’ll do it for you, but I don’t need the help.”

John told everyone I was leaving him at a “kennel” while I was gone! Although he would not admit it, John got along fine. He was very popular with the nurses and became quite a Bingo shark! He also found new friends to talk with.

I enjoyed my time in Minnesota and got to spend a lot of time with Michele, Katie, my son-in-law Tim, and grandson Kris. I was able to meet Katie’s boyfriend and Kris’s girlfriend. The weather was cool and the fall leaves were spectacular. I came home with precious memories ready to pick up my role as caretaker again.

I realized that where we end up in life is not always in the future we planned. We pass people on the streets who don’t look like heroes as they move along with the aid of a walker. We go through our days caring for our loved ones with our lives revolving around their needs and appointments resulting from their service to our country.

Yet, when I see my husband struggle to his feet when the national anthem is played, I also know we live in the most wonderful country in the world. Despite his limitations, my husband is still proud to be an American and proud to have served.

~Judee Stapp

Through Thick and Thin

 

Through Thick and Thin

Originally published in Chicken Soup for the Soul, The Miracle of Love

Gratitude is the memory of the heart.

~Jean-Baptiste Massieu

 

The doctors faced us across the steel table in a small, gray office at the Veterans’ Hospital. They looked at us for a long moment and then began to go over the results of the mental test they had administered to my husband, John.

 

“While some of the tests are normal, most of them show you have weakened abilities in the areas of memory and judgment, sir.” The doctor paused and took a deep breath. John felt for my hand and held on to me tightly.

 “I’m sorry to tell you that the final diagnosis is ‘advanced cognitive impairment with significant short-term memory loss.’ This will probably progress into dementia.”

I felt like they had kicked me in the stomach, and I couldn’t breathe. It seemed like all the air had been sucked out of that small space. I felt John’s hand tightening painfully on mine, and then it began to shake uncontrollably. I wanted to grab him and run out of that place, away from them and their calm, clinical words that would change our lives forever.

Instead, we stood, thanked them and walked slowly as John maneuvered his way down the hall with his right hand on his cane and his left arm looped through mine. We didn’t talk as we clung to each other all the way to the car.

“What are we going to do?” John asked me on the drive home. “I don’t want you to have to take care of me for the rest of our lives!”

 I had loved this man for twenty-six years. We had met in the Angels Booster Club and grown close through our common love of baseball. We moved slowly in the relationship since both of us had been through painful divorces. I came to know him as an honorable, kind and thoughtful man. His parents and my mom and sister grew to love each other as well. I adored his daughter and John was excited to be a stepfather to my children and grandchildren. Our wedding was a true blending of our families as the minister placed everyone’s hands on the Bible and declared, “I now pronounce you one family brought together by God.”

We had taken care of my mother, and then John’s parents and my sister at the end of their lives. We had always told ourselves that our time would come to enjoy our freedom and travel when we retired.

Then I had colon cancer surgery on our twenty-fifth anniversary and had to postpone our dream trip to New England. “Don’t worry,” John had told me then, “we will be able to travel later. You’ll see.”

 So the following year, we planned a trip on a paddlewheel boat up the Mississippi from New Orleans to Memphis with ten friends from our church. A few weeks before we left, I developed a painful kidney stone. When the doctors went in to remove it, they found another tumor that had to be removed. Again John told me, “Don’t worry, you will be up and around in time for our trip.”

His positivity must have worked because we went on our trip and had a lovely time. I did notice, though, that he had more trouble walking and was confused on the boat about where our cabin was. On the trip home, John lost his balance and took a bad fall in the Dallas airport as we hurried to change planes on our way back to California.

When we got home, the doctor scheduled a three-hour mental evaluation for John. It seemed the results of that test would derail the future we had planned together. All of this flashed through my head as we headed for home after the doctor’s crushing diagnosis.

 John put his hand on my knee as I drove, waiting for me to answer.

 “Okay, that was the medical diagnosis, but they don’t know us,” I told him. “We have weathered every storm together, and this will be no different! We will eat healthy and exercise every day. Maybe the extra oxygen will help your brain stay clear longer.”

 “This is not the future we had planned, and I don’t want you to be saddled with caring for me,” John whispered.

 “We are stronger together, and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else except with you in this fight,” I assured him. “Besides, I wonder if anyone really ever ends up where they planned to be later in life.”

 We have developed ways of dealing with the memory loss by making lists and using calendars to remind him of plans. I administer his many medications, sit in on all his medical appointments, and encourage him to participate in activities with our church, relatives and friends.

This once proud, decorated soldier is slowly fading away. My heart hurts for him, but there is nowhere I want to be except by his side. I’m not always patient or the perfect caretaker, but our love and commitment are strong, and we are quick to forgive each other for our mistakes. We’ve learned to be grateful for the time we have together and we manage to live joyfully.

 

 ~Judee Stapp