Today I’d like to draw our attention to the topic of time.
By all appearances, we have a fair bit of control over many things. Time and timing are a component of almost all actions of mankind. We have airport schedules, doctors’ appointments, estimated arrival times, dinner reservations, to mention a few.
For the most part, it appears that God our Father, who has created all things and controls all things has given us as mankind a lot of say about our time. We have authors and trainers that specialize in time management. There are people who resist the “time” component and choose to live without a time factor, as much as they are able. Some of these individuals appear to have found a level of serenity coveted by many. However, ultimately not one of us has control of the clock of time.
Think of the vast groups of people in Florida who had made plans Sept 22, 2022 for the normal activities of life. When the category 4 hurricane Ian made landfall, the loftiest of these plans were either canceled, or altered.
On Nov 30 2021 I had left the city of Calgary to pick up what was supposed to be my wife’s Christmas gift. Driving down the freeway at posted speed, I became aware of a possible change of plans. A sharp pain underneath my arm was not normal. Then when a wave of perspiration coursed down my head, almost as though a faucet had been opened, my awareness went into shock. I was in the process of having a heart attack. Driving my vehicle at 110 km an hour, I realized that I needed to find a safe place to park. I needed to call for help.
A not-so-distant Denny’s Restaurant parking lot provided the parking spot. Cellular phone supplied communication. The 9-11 operator directed the ambulance. Foothills Hospital Trauma Team was on standby. They assured me I was in good hands. My mind was on high alert. I was alone. My nearest family members were 2 hours away. My daughter Annette thought the phone call from Calgary was a crank call. No caller ID, so she didn’t respond.
The team informed me they suspected an artery blockage. The procedure room was being prepared. Was I OK with a blood transfusion if normal became abnormal? When the attack would strike intermittently, they asked about my pain level on a scale of 1 to 10. “11,” was my answer.
I thought I’d just rest a bit. I relaxed. The doctor by my side rapped my shoulder. “Don, don’t leave us now.” I attempted to wake up. Perhaps I did. A short while later again I felt the rap on my shoulder. I heard the doctor, “Don, don’t leave us.”
I suddenly realized I was possibly going to die. Soon. I breathed a prayer to Jesus. I told him I thought I was ready to go to meet him. I was at peace. I felt no panic or fear. I asked Jesus to cover for me. To complete for me the things I should have done, that perhaps I had neglected.
Friends, here was a man who has been the Prodigal Son, who had for years and years been a reproach to better knowledge. Who at one time, in angry bravado, vehemently told a church-going person I would rather go to Hell than darken the door of another church. Angry. Resentful. Offended.
Here I was in a time of reconciliation, lying on a gurney, in a manner of speaking between two doors; one called life and the other death. At Peace! Friends, I was chatting with Jesus; the friend I had for so many years neglected and shunned. With a bit of luck, I’d be with him soon. I’d be done with the battles of time.
An hour or so later I was wheeled from the procedure room. The stent placement had been successful. I was given a good prognosis. As I was wheeled to the ICU ward, I should have been ecstatic, and a part of me was. But the greater part of me was disappointed. By all indications my assignment on earth was not over. I contacted my family on our WhatsApp family chat. “I’m in the Foothills Hospital in ICU. I’ve had a heart attack. I’m recovering well from a stent procedure. The prognosis is good.”
My wife responded, “Are you Serious?”
I replied, “Serious as a heart attack!”
Time…It’s not in our hands.
Next time I’ll tell you how the past 11 months have gone.
If I am granted time.
