|Miracles. They happen around us every day. And yet, society tells us it’s coincidence, karma, or luck. Here at Exodus, God is doing miracles every day in the lives of our women, children, staff, board, volunteers and donors. Get comfortable, grab a cup of coffee and let me tell you about the miracle I found myself in the middle of last week. Our precious DeAnna’s father was in hospice care, dying. I offered to take her to spend the day with him, reading scripture, praying over him, spending some of his last precious hours soaking in time with her daddy. We were on our way. Visiting. Laughing. I brought a (store-bought) protein shake for breakfast for me, so I packed one for her, too. She took one sip and had an odd reaction. “What’s in this, Ms. Susan? My lips are starting to tingle and it’s hard to breathe.”
“Oh, honey, are you okay? Do we need to go to the doctor? Or the hospital?”
“No, I’ll be fine,” came the response as she struggled to clear her throat.
Moments later, she flung her seat belt off and started slapping my shoulder to get my attention. I looked over to see tears streaming down her face, panic in her eyes, and her moving her hand across her throat in the distressed, universal “no air” signal.
Oh, my. It’s too late. She’s not okay. She’s not breathing. Lord, I am not equipped to intubate,” I whispered to myself.
I pulled over and dialed 911.”It’s okay, honey, you’ll be fine.” I reassured her. But, I was really not so sure. She was not breathing, and we were running out of time.
The 911 operator must not have heard the urgency in my voice and must not have realized the gravity of the situation. “My passenger is not breathing. At all.” I repeated over again. He asked where we were and if I thought we needed an ambulance. What?! You’re 911. She’s not breathing. This is no time for a polite discussion, I thought, barely able to contain myself.
I was frustrated at the seeming lack of concern on his part, and his lack of immediate action. I blurted out, “there’s a CareNow 5 minutes down the road. Can we go there?”
He replied, “Yes. Or I could send an ambulance.” Too late, dude, I thought to myself. I jumped back on the highway trying to make up for lost time. She was still not breathing. Not even gasping for air – I would have welcomed that– just not breathing at all.
I placed my hand on her leg and started to pray. “Lord, please heal DeAnna. Please open her airways and let her breathe. From her head to her toes, please heal her completely. Please open her air passages and let her breathe. I rebuke Satan in the name of Jesus. Lord, let her breathe.”
I called ahead to CareNow. “She’s not breathing and we are headed your way.”
And, then, she gasped for air. She sucked in air, glorious air. Her breathing was quick, staccato for a minute, then slowly returned to normal. “Ms. Susan, I can breathe,” she managed to say.
By the time we pulled into the parking lot of CareNow, she was breathing, talking and even laughing about the unbelievable episode we had just experienced. We debated about even going in to CareNow, since she was breathing again. But, I knew. I knew she had just had a potentially fatal allergic reaction to something and needed to be checked out by medical personnel.
They rushed us back, somewhat befuddled that my “not breathing passenger” was breathing, talking and carrying on a conversation. Her blood pressure was normal. Normal.
They confirmed that she had gone into anaphylactic shock and had no medical explanation regarding how she was able to start breathing again. We proclaimed the name of Jesus and explained that the Great Physician had opened her airways and allowed her to breathe.
We had a second, and then a third nurse confirm what we suspected. She should have died in my car that day. There was not even enough time to get her to CareNow before she should have died. 911 should have dispatched an ambulance as soon as I said she was not breathing. They should have arrived on scene, intubated her and administered Epinephrine. The 911 operator should not have allowed me to hang up and drive away. She should have died in my car that day, on the side of the road, going to visit her dying father. But, God…
DeAnna told me later that as soon as I started praying over her, she felt her throat start to open. A nurse pointed out that if the 911 operator had done his job correctly, he would have dispatched an ambulance at the beginning of the call, and we would never have witnessed the healing power of the name of Jesus because the medics would have intervened with tubes and medicine. There is so much power in the name of Jesus. There is so much power in prayer.
On our way home that day, I shared that I had prayed for the gift of healing that morning, for her dad, of course, but God had used it in a different way. She responded with “Oh, Ms. Susan, this morning I prayed for a miracle. Next time I need to be more specific, huh?”
No, sweet one. Just continue to pray. There is power in prayer. There is power in the name of Jesus. And God still does miracles every day. DeAnna is living proof.
How can you help this ministry and women like DeAnna? Pray. Volunteer. Donate.
Why do I come to work every day? To watch the miracles that God does in the lives of the women and children in this ministry, their families and their extended families. God loves to take our ordinary days and make them extraordinary. And on a really good day, He allows me to be a part of the miracle!
Come be a part of this incredible ministry. What are you waiting for?
*Please keep DeAnna and her family in your prayers. Her father passed the following day.