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LOVE NEVER DIES
by Jeannette Y. Ferrell

Chapter 31: Touched b y t h e Master’ s Hand

WE ARRIVED IN Dunn around four o’clock on Friday afternoon.
Mama enjoyed eating at a local steak house there, so we decided
to stop for supper. They’d just opened and, as we walked inside and
through the line, Mama seemed almost addle-minded. I turned to ask
what she was gonna eat and saw that her face was as white as a sheet.

“I don’t know. Nothing seems good. I’m really not hungry, but guess
I do need to eat something.”

“How about some cream potatoes, Mama?”

Daddy had already gotten his steak and salad while Mama was just
moseying around as if in a daze. This was very unlike her.

“Here Mama, try some of these potatoes. They may help you feel
better. They’re not real heavy, and won’t lay heavy on your stomach.”
“Well, I’ll try and eat some.”

She managed only a few mouthfuls with a half glass of water.
After the waitress brought the bill, we gathered our things and
headed for the checkout. Daddy reached in his back left pant pocket for
his billfold while Mama and I headed for the corridor.

Approaching the doorway and leaning into the door to push, Mama
said, “My, this door sure is heavy isn’t it?” I reached to help just when it
nearly knocked us both down. “They need to put an automatic door
opener on this — it’s nearly impossible to open,” I said.

On the way home, Mama didn’t have much to say. As Daddy conversed over the not-so-satisfying meal, I every now and then looked in the rearview mirror at Mama. Jesus, what could be wrong with her.Mama’s shoulders are slumping lower and lower as though she’s in some sortof discomfort. And she’s so pale looking, as if there’s no blood in her face
whatsoever.

“Mama? Are you feeling okay?” Daddy asked after catching a
glimpse in his visor mirror overhead.

“Yes. Um, hum.”

“Honey? Do you mind if Jeannette swings by the drugstore to pick
up my prescription that Dr. Ashley called in?”

“No, that’ll be just fine, Papa, then you won’t have to go tomorrow.”

We arrived home a little after six o’clock. Mama checked the
answering machine to discover that Tracey had called, leaving a grocery
list and announcing that she was in need of her afternoon toddy.

“Jeannette, here, let me give you some money to go to the Clixie
and get Tracey’s supplies. Be sure and get enough to last her up to three
weeks.”

“Three weeks supply? Do you know how much that will cost?”

“Tracey won’t mind paying you once she finds out how much you
got her.”

“I’ll pay for it — you keep your money for later, Mama.”

“Well . . .” she just trailed off, not even giving me an argument.

That was worrisome.

Paying some, but not really that much attention to her, I went
ahead and wrote down the items Tracey wanted and gathered my things
for the trip up.

“Would you like to ride with me, Mama?”

“No, not this time. I’m a little tired. I’ll walk out with you though
and go out to the shop where Papa and Paul are.”

I decided to let the Lincoln rest and crawled into my old ’90 Buick. I can’t explain the feeling that came over me just before I started the motor. I sat in the car for five minutes, watching Mama as she walked out to the shop. She was wearing her favorite teal polyester pants that were loose around her stomach, a cream-colored pullover sweater with red roses embroidered down each side, and her tiny white tennis shoes. All I
saw was her back the whole time she walked, and she was talking to Papa
and Paul. I remember she leaned over to her right, hands in her pockets,
and spit, then she went back to talking.

I love her so much, dear Lord. I love the pure ground Mama walks on.
I must go to get those groceries and yet, why am I looking at her so enticingly,
as if . . . I didn’t let myself finish that thought. I put the gearshift in
reverse, backed out of the driveway, and headed toward Raleigh.

Sure enough, Tracey was delighted to get all that toddy and an
ample supply of groceries. “Jeannette, what in the world possessed you to
buy so much?”

“It was Mama’s idea.”

“Please thank Dru for me. She always seems to know exactly what
I need. How was your trip?” I put away Tracey’s groceries and visited with
her some, then I excused myself to head back home. She told me she’d
call Mama later to thank her personally, then she told me to be careful.

On the drive home, all was going well when suddenly I thought of
Aunt Hattie. I hadn’t thought of her since she passed away back in 1991.
Out of the blue, her name flashed before my eyes like a streak of lightning.
As I arrived at the intersection stoplight at Tryon Road, a white
dove flew across the windshield and fell down beside my right fender.

Strange, I thought, as I slowly pulled off. I remember hoping I
hadn’t run over him, and when I looked into the rearview mirror there
was no dove to be seen. At home, I found Papa sitting in his favorite
recliner in the den and Mama in the blue rocker Daddy had bought her
for Christmas last year. Her propped-up feet were somewhat swollen.

“Tracey just called thanking me for all those supplies. Now there’s a
lady. You don’t find ’em like that any more. Yes, she’s a fine lady.”
“It’s been two whole days since I’ve been on the computer. Think
I’ll go and play. Y’all gonna join me?” I asked.

“Shug, you go ahead. Don’t stay too long. Come back in here and
visit with us some, okay?”

It seemed like minutes, but it had been nearly two hours when I
heard Mama say, “Shug? The Miss Universe Pageant is coming on. Won’t
you leave that computer alone and come and watch it with Papa
and me?”

“I’ll be there in a minute, Mama.”

“Shug? It’s ten o’clock. Please leave that computer alone and come
and visit with us some . . .”

“In a minute, in just a minute . . .”

“Shug? It’s ten twenty. Please, come and visit with Papa and me and
watch the pageant.”

“In a min . . . OKAY, I’ll be right there . . . in a min . . .”

I quit where I was and went into the den and sat in Grandma
Ferrell’s rocking chair. Mama was still setting in the blue rocker.

“Mama?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t your feet hurt? They seem swollen pretty badly.”

Daddy spoke, “I asked her if she didn’t want to go to the doctor and
she refused. She kept saying she’d be all right. Just let her get a good
night’s sleep and she would be just fine.”

“Mama? Daddy? I pray to Jesus everyday to bless y’all. I love you so
much. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Shug, we love you too.”

“No, really, I mean it. Mama, I thank Jesus everyday for you both.”

“Shug, we pray for you too, every day. Always lean on and trust in
Him. We might not always be here — but remember we’ll be just a
thought away. For love never . . .” I butted in, “Well, let me get back
to the computer and finish the records. I’m getting Ruthann put in and
re-evaluating the business.”

Soon Mama came on in the living room and started playing her
favorite video game. Sometimes we’d play it together. But tonight I was
busy on the computer with the business, and she played it alone. She was
still pale but there seemed to be a little more color in her face than there
had been this afternoon at the restaurant in Dunn.

Just before Daddy came in, Mama began playing the keyboard she’d
saved for and bought with her own money just before Christmas last year.

She had always wanted to learn to play by ear, so one day she ordered
little stick-on notes. I came home late from work one night and was in
my bedroom changing clothes when I heard the prettiest music coming
from the living room. It was Mama, she was playing by ear. I just stood
there, in the gracefulness of the moment and quietly listened. Please
Jesus, please help me to remember this special time in Mama’s life — her playing
by ear. I remembered how only three months earlier I had witnessed
Mama’s playing by ear on her very own Christmas present to herself. I was
so overwhelmed that I grabbed the camera and took her picture.

Mama had played several songs and was playing a few gospel tunes
by ear when Daddy came in and sat down on the swivel chair beside the
keyboard. Mama had just finished playing “Where The Roses Never Fade”
and was just starting another when, all of a sudden she crossed her right
leg over her left leg and slumped onto the keyboard beneath her. Her
glasses fell from her face and she lay still upon the instrument. I jumped
and ran to her side as Daddy shouted, “Doll, D-o-l-l, Drusilla, answer me
D-r-u-s-i-l-l-a?”

“Mama?” Gently I took hold of her shoulders and pulled her back.
She fell into my arms. I pulled her off the stool as best I could and laid
her across the living room floor, starting CPR while Daddy continued to
call her name.

“Oh dear Jesus, what has happened to Mama? Dear sweet Jesus,
honey, you gotta call for help. I can’t get up, and I can’t get down there
to help you. My hip — my hip won’t let me.”

“One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand.”
Then, I’d stop and breathe into mama’s mouth. “One-one thousand,
two-one thousand, three-one thousand.” I kept repeating the procedure
I’d learned from a course I’d taken at the local technical college a few
years earlier. Only this time, it wasn’t on a rubber doll, it was on a real
person — my dear, beloved Mama.

“Daddy, you can help. Press here on Mama’s chest while I go and
call 911.”

“This is 911, may I help you?”

“This is Jeannette Ferrell, and my mom has had a heart attack, and
we need the rescue squad immediately!”

“Ms. Ferrell, calm down and give me some information.”

“Don’t you understand? My Mama had a heart attack and we need
the rescue squad right now!”

“Calm down and tell me where are you located, Ms. Ferrell.”

It was all up to me. Daddy couldn’t help much, and now this operator
at the emergency center wouldn’t cooperate. She just kept asking
questions.

“What’s the date of birth of the patient, and what time did this happen
and what state was she in at this time?” It seemed like hours passed
as I tried so hard to get the EMS here. She continued not wanting to
listen to my urgency. “Look, I need to get back in there and continue
CPR. Dad isn’t doing well either, and I can’t take care of both of ’em.
Please, p-l-e-a-s-e, help me. I need you now. I’ll turn the porch light on
so you’ll know which house it is. The one on the corner at Hill Top.
Please, please hurry.”

I was barely able to get the phone back on the hook because I was
shaking so badly. I ran and fell down again on the floor beside Mama
and continued CPR. “Jesus,” I spoke aloud and didn’t care who was
listening, “Please, please help Daddy and me. One-one thousand, twoone
thousand, please! We need your help NOW! Don’t say no like you
have to me in the past. Please, help me and Daddy NOW!” No, no, no,
no, no, no, this can’t be happening. No, no no, Jesus; No! Not now; no,
no, no, no.

It seemed like an eternity before the rescue squad arrived. When
they finally did come, forty minutes later, I was told that all ambulances
were on call and they managed to free this one up from Harnett County.
Daddy wanted to ride with her, but they told him it’d be best if he rode
with me to help calm me down. As they put Mama in the ambulance, I
told the paramedic that Mama’s wish was to never go to Memorial but
rather be carried to Rex Hospital. Turning he said, “You do want your
mother to live, don’t you? We’re carrying her to Memorial.”
“NO. Mama made me promise to NEVER have anyone carry her to
Memorial — ever again. NO, you carry her to Rex hospital — do you
hear me?”

“Ma’am, like I said, we are carrying her to Memorial.”

Knowing there was no time to lose, I nodded, turned, and went
back inside to find Daddy struggling for air.

“Daddy, don’t worry. Jesus will take care of Mama. Are all your pills
in your container? Let’s get Mama’s list of things she’s allergic to and take
it with us.”

Just before leaving the house, Daddy reminded me, “Honey, don’t
forget her billfold. It has a list of her medical insurance and other needs.
Let’s go now. Time’s a wasting and we need to be there should she call
for us.”

I finished gathering as much as I could while Daddy got his sweater
and went to the car. I made sure all the lights were off and the central air
conditioner was turned back and closed the door behind me.

Still in shock, I began repeating the Lord’s prayer over and over
again until Daddy asked me to stop. He said I was getting on his nerves.
Jesus? I’ll never stop saying Your precious prayer. Please, please hear our
prayer and let Mama be okay when we get to Memorial.

“Honey, I overheard what the attendant said to you. Mama will
understand. You did your best NOT to have her carried to Memorial.”
Daddy soothed me. Then, with a sob he said, “What are we gonna do
without Mama?”

“Daddy, don’t talk like that. Mama’s gonna be okay. Just you wait
and see, she’s gonna be okay. She’s just gotta be. We love her so much.
Jesus will take care of her till we get there. Mama’s gonna be okay.”
Please, please Jesus, please . . .

An intern met us at the emergency door and asked if we were the
relatives of Mrs. Ferrell. After the preliminary questions and finding out
that Mama was in really bad shape, Daddy and I were asked to step into
a tiny room where the hospital chaplain would join us.

“We don’t need a chaplain. What are they talking about? Mama’s
gonna be just fine. Jesus will take care of her, and she’s gonna be just
fine,” I insisted to Daddy.

“Shish, honey. It’s just precaution. Let’s go along with ’em. Shish,”
he repeated as he patted me on my right hand. “Just calm down. I can’t
take you and Mama both, so just calm down and continue praying.”


He reached for another puff of his inhaler. The following forty-eight
hours were unforgettable.

Mama was still holding on and seemed to be showing some signs of
improvement. The doctors insisted her movements were just reflexes, but
I knew better. I raised the bottom covers to rub Mama’s feet just once
more, and to see if the swelling had gone down and if they were cold.
Mama always had cold feet. I touched the bottom of her tiny feet and she
moved them. Finally, a ray of hope. This was the first time she’d moved
since Friday night before the attack.

“Daddy, did you see that?”
“What, honey?”
“Quick, call for the nurse and let her see.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, folks. It’s just reflexes.” The on-call
doctor said.

They don’t know my Mama. She’s strong, and I’ve never known her
to ever give up. On Sunday evening, Jane, a friend of the family was visiting
Mama. Jane turned with streams of tears flowing down her cheeks
and said, “Mama Ferrell is saying, ‘I love you’, Jeannette. I think she’s
looking at you and saying those words.”

Immediately she stepped to one side, and I walked over to Mama’s
right side. I watched her eyes actually follow my movement. I looked at
her lips. Yes, Jane was right! Mama was saying, as best she could, “I love
you, I love you, I love you.” I felt her hazel green eyes piercing clean down
to my inner soul. I just stood there, slowly putting my right hand on
Mama’s right hand, and gently squeezed. Looking down into her eyes, I
spoke some words she hadn’t heard earnestly from me in quite some time,
“I love you too, Mama. I love you so much.” Daddy once told me I had to
be strong and that crying was a sign of weakness, but it was all I could do
to hold back the tears.

The nurse pulled out a metal stool from under the corner sink and
motioned for me to sit. The evil one seemed to be losing his grip on me
somewhat as I struggled with my sincere compassion and my attempt to control my heartfelt sorrow for my beloved Mama. Jane was quietlywhispering to the night nurse. I couldn’t stand it any longer, and the tears began to flow violently. In spite of what Daddy had told me, I just
couldn’t help it. I’d taken all I could. This is my mama. Dear Jesus, this is
my dear, sweet, loving Mama. For the first time in my entire life, I broke down and openly wept. Jane knelt down, put her arms around me, and held me close as the night nurse reached and held us both. How I wished it was Mama holding me. All I ever wanted was for Mama to hold me close and not let go — ever!

Instantly, it felt like the floodgates of heaven opened. Although Mama lay motionless on the hospital bed, I strongly felt her arms wrapped around me, through the presence of Jane. Those shackles that Satan was holding onto were being loosened as Jesus Himself showered
me with His everlasting arms of love!

Since Mama’s attack on the seventeenth, Daddy and I spent most
of our time at the hospital, hoping and praying for a miracle. This is what
it would take for Mama to come home. According to the doctors, Mama
went so long without oxygen during her heart attack that her brain
was dead.

How could this be? Mama’s so active and so alert. She’s had a heart attack. It has nothing to do with her brain. I struggled with thoughts of Mama being a vegetable for the rest of her life. She’d made Daddy and me promise to never put her on life support, saying that if she didn’t have any quality of life left, she’d rather pass on than live in an unknowing state.

On Tuesday, the doctor had just finished examining Mama when Dad and I walked in. He asked for permission to do one more brain scan to be sure what he’d told us earlier was indeed true. While he continued to discuss Mama’s condition right there in her room, Daddy walked over and put his right hand on Mama’s left shoulder. Miraculously, Mama moved it as if to say for us NOT to have it done — or was it just another reflex motion? Daddy looked up at me, I looked at the doctor, and he looked at Mama with a raised eyebrow. Then he turned to me and asked about the scan. Not to Daddy, but to me. Daddy didn’t butt in, as if he,
too, didn’t know what to say.

“Sir? I did everything I knew to do. I immediately started giving Mama CPR, and then I called 911 not once, but twice. It took them forty minutes to respond to my calls.”

“Jeannette? May I call you by your first name?” I nodded. “You probably saved your mother’s life. She wouldn’t be alive if it hadn’t been for you. Miracles still happen. It’s just that this scan will show us the extent of the damage and if there’s anything at all left that we might be
able to do to help her.”

I probably said wrong, knowing how terrified Mama was to be closed in tight places, but I agreed to them doing one more brain scan. Daddy glanced over at me but said nothing.

The following Friday, May 24, 1996, was just another day visiting Mama at the hospital. But Daddy and I had spent Thursday night there.

Around lunchtime, I noticed Daddy getting the weak trembles. Was it his sugar dropping? Wasn’t he eating properly? Was he using the inhaler too often? I asked the nurses if they happened to have an extra wheelchair around. He was just too shaken up to walk, and his hip
was hurting after a restless night in those not-so-comfortable waiting room chairs. Jesus, please, tell me what is happening with Daddy. Mama would know instantly what to do, but I’m so inexperienced, and I’m afraid I’ll not make another right decision — ever again. Jesus, I don’t feel I can take much more.

I went down to the cafeteria, got some sandwiches, and brought them back to Daddy. He ate them with a Diet Coke. Later in the afternoon, Cousin Richard came up to visit a friend of his and stepped in to check on Mama. Daddy asked Richard if he’d mind taking him home so
he could rest a bit. I promised I’d be on shortly — before dark.

Before Daddy left, he and I went in to see Mama. We stayed longer than normal as Daddy continued patting her arms and loving her and kissing her on the lips while Mama just lay there without any movement at all. The doctor said if her brain was active that she’d be talking and laughing with us. He said that all her vital signs were normal and that
we’d soon have to decide what to do. As far as they were concerned,
Mama could live in this state for a long, long time.

Daddy slowly sat back down in the wheelchair and rested a bit. Then he rose once more, rubbed Mama’s arms and gently placed his left hand on her forehead. He leaned down and kissed her once again on her soft, rosy lips, hoping for some kind of response.

“I love you, darling. Do you hear me? I love you, Doll. I love you.Dear sweet Jesus, I love you.” Still, no movement at all — only a silent stillness prevailed. Just about that time two hospital chaplains came into Mama’s small ICU room. Jesus, why’re they here? Mama’s okay. She’s gonna be just fine. I turned to the young chaplain saying, “I can’t waitto get to heaven and ask Eve why in the world she took a bite of that forbidden fruit.” Anger was raging deep within my soul. As I turned back toward my parents, he asked for a moment of prayer. Afterward, he excused himself, leaving us alone. Once more, it was just the three of us,
as it had been for all my forty-eight years.

Daddy leaned down, hugged Mama, kissed her on the lips one last time and told her that he’d see her later. He told her that Richard was taking him home, and if she needed him to have the nurses call and he’d be right by her side.

After Daddy left, I went over and got one of those pink pre-moistened sticks. I opened the wrapper and placed it on Mama’s lips. When I took it away, there was no response. I went to the door and asked the nurses if they had any more, as that was the last one I could find. They didn’t. Back in the room, I moistened a wash cloth and wiped Mama’s lips
with it. Then I dribbled a few drops of water onto another wash cloth and patted her face and forehead.

It was just me and Mama and nobody else. I walked over to the right side of the bed and just stood there looking down at my loving mother. A sudden urge came upon me to kneel and pray. But how, Jesus? How do I do this? Knowing I wasn’t righteous enough to bow beside Mama’s bed, I turned and took two, maybe three steps, till I was in front of the sink in
Mama’s tiny hospital room. My arthritic knees crackled on the way down as I lowered myself onto the cold tile floor below. In a squatting position at first, I began to recite the 23rd Psalm — out loud so Mama could hear me. I wanted her to know that I loved her, and I wanted her to hear her daughter praying.

Guilt and shame pierced my soul. I knew I had no control over Mama’s living or dying. Oh, dear sweet Jesus — I don’t want her to die! What will I do without Mama? I love her so much — more than words. Lord? I love the pure ground Mama walks on, yet look how I’ve treated her over the last years — and especially the last few months. And just last week, those harsh
words coming out of my mouth that I had no control over, and the times I’ve prayed to You for help. Well! I think its time to come clean. I’ll do it the only way I know. Dear Lord, I’ve been away from You for quite some time. I’ve heard Mama and Daddy pray, but Lord, I really don’t know how. All I can do is be truly and completely honest with You as best I know how.

After unloading my burdens and confessing all my shame over letting the evil one seduce me, I laid everything at His feet. A moment of silence came from deep within my soul.

I couldn’t wipe away the tears fast enough. Then, miraculously, I heard a sound coming from Mama’s way. I stood up slowly, holding onto the sink in front of me. I saw Mama’s tongue licking her lips. Slowly moving toward her, I saw her open her eyes as she began to make a
gurgling noise. Then she tried to clear her throat as she looked up near the ceiling.

As I reached the cold metal bed-rails, Mama licked her lips, swallowed three times, and then Mama began smiling! I was so elated I was speechless. She’s gonna be all right. Mama’s coming home, thank You Jesus.

But then I realized that Mama was seeing something or someone upon that ceiling. Her smile — that sweet, pure smile on her face — was so radiant, so peaceful, so loving and innocent and kind and so very, very happy!

I could hardly believe my eyes. The room darkened, and thunder rumbled just outside the window. A brilliant light descended from the top eastern corner of that intensive care room. This magnificent light lowered a transparent golden glow as it hovered over Mama’s frail body. I didn’t know what was happening. I just stood there and witnessed the most beautiful, breathtaking event I’ve ever seen. Iwatched in amazement as Mama’s soul literally lifted out of her body, passed right before my eyes, and went upward toward the Heavenly Light.

The Light was so piercingly bright. I would have been blinded if I’d looked within its depth. All I could see were radiant beams that shown brightly from the whiter-than-white light. As this was taking place, I remember thinking, Lord, I want to go, please let me go and leave it
all behind. Then a firm yet gentle voice from the left-hand corner of Mama’s bed spoke, “It’s not your time yet. It’s not your time yet. It’s not your time yet.”

Just before the halo descended, I was filled with a warm sensation from the top of my head to the soles of my feet. An electrifying power seemed to erase my sins. I actually felt the chains Satan had on me melt away as Christ’s mighty force continued piercing through my body like
healing waters overflowing a river’s bank. I knew beyond a shadow that it came only from Jesus Himself. His mercy and grace pierced my entire sinful body, and my mind was completely cleansed by His heavenly touch.

The halo that carried my sins away flowed peacefully toward the bright heavenly light. Then the curtains were drawn as the light faded back toward the eastern corner of the room where it had first appeared only moments earlier. At four-twelve in the evening of May 24th, I knew
beyond a shadow of any doubt that I had been gracefully touched by my Master’s Hand.

The room returned to normal. I looked down at Mama, slowly removing my right hand from the bed rails and gently placing it on her soft right arm. I felt a slight warmth at first. Then the slow coolness began creeping under my fingertips up toward her chest. I let my eyes drift up to Mama’s face. I was astonished by her expression. Her head was thrown back and her mouth was wide open. Mama’s skin was covered with abrilliant golden color and her hazel green eyes were wide open. I didn’t know I was supposed to close Mamas’ eyes and shut her mouth and tilt her head back down on the soft, white pillow. I was too caught up in the most speechless moment of my life.

I turned and opened the big, heavy wooden door and walked slowly out of Mama’s room. I walked through the intensive care unit, down the corridor and into the waiting room. As I reached the exit door, the receptionist called to me. She had another list of callers who had
inquired about Mama. As I stopped to heed her call, Uncle Lawrence and Aunt Sally came in from the Lake to see how Mama was doing.

“Jeannette, how’s Druzilla?”
“She’s gone. Jesus came and took Mama home.”
“Can I see her?”
“Sure. I have to call Daddy. Please excuse me.” A lady at the desk
asked, “Are you all right?” I began nodding and smiling.

“Daddy, I’ve got to tell you something, and I don’t know how.”
“Honey? What is it?”
“Jesus just came and got Mama, just moments ago.” There was
silence from the other end of the phone.
“Why didn’t I stay? I should’ve been there with her. Honey, are you
all right?”

“I’ll be home after a while, Daddy. Uncle Lawrence and Aunt Sally just arrived as I came to call you. I was with Mama, Daddy. She wasn’t alone. Jane wanted me to call her. I’m sure she’ll ride with me home so don’t worry. I’m okay. It’ll be a while — up to an hour.”

“Honey, send the house key with Lawrence, and you come on home as soon as you can. My Papa and Grandma Ferrell both died in my arms. I should have stayed with Drusilla as she passed too. I should have stayed there with you. No matter about my health, I could’ve stayed one more hour. I should’ve stayed just a little while longer.”

“Daddy, it wasn’t meant to be. I was with Mama, and that’s the way Jesus wanted it to be. Daddy, I witnessed Mama’s homecoming, and it was breathtaking. It was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life. Jesus released the shackles from my body, and I actually felt the chains as they slid down my legs and across my feet and the warmth that was left behind. And, Daddy, through sanctification I was purified by the touch of His wonderful loving hands. The same ones you and Mama experienced many years ago. Dad, I repented at that very moment, and I am walking with Jesus again.

“I’m glad Richard is there with you, Daddy and Uncle Lawrence will be on shortly. Do you have your pills?”

“Yes. I took the heart and the diabetic pills on the way home. Don’t you worry about me now. You go ahead and take care of matters there and get home as soon as you can. And honey, I love you. It’s just you and me now and don’t worry, Jesus will take care of us. You hear? Jesus will always take care of His children, and He will never leave us and He doesn’t put
on us more than we can stand. Thank you for calling on Richard’s car phone, and honey, do be careful driving home.”

I know in my heart that Mama laid down her life for me. She knew the turmoil I was in. Mama knew Satan had a hold on me. Jesus not only granted Mama’s request back in 1995, of her asking to go Home before Daddy. But, He also allowed Mama to give up her life so I could live.

I nearly lost my soul as God granted the request I made back in the seventies. When I asked for living a little in the world, I did not know the impact or the devastation that it would bring to my parents. I was actually standing on the threshold of disclaiming all my morals and my
family’s love for Christ.