The Day Time Stood Still: Part 1

It was a cold December night with record lows of below freezing temps in a sleepy little town in the South. The coldest it had been in around 51 years according to one news source!

I remember being jolted awake from a dead state of slumber. “Wake up. We have to take your Moma to the hospital. Hurry up and get dressed,” Dad directed.

Startled, I sat up on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong?” I asked groggily, trying desperately to arouse myself from sleep.

“”It’s time,” Daddy replied.

With the sobering news, I jumped out of bed and dressed in record time. I vaguely remember cradling an electric blanket around my Moma in the backseat of our cream Galaxy 500 car.

Growing up, we had no phone in our home. Very few we knew had one.

She was so weak, she had to lean on my 90 pound frame, weighing around the same as I did at the time. Her moans were full of pain.

I didn’t know what to do, but hold her, not having any words. She didn’t seem to be conscious of anyone around her, only the excruciating pain.

Daddy had to be careful on the slick roads, especially with those brakes that could literally throw you through the windshield in a heartbeat! It was freezing outside and inside the car. My teeth were chattering. I don’t even think the heater had enough time to warm up on the trek to the nearest hospital 15 minutes away.

Stark trees outlined the walkway at the front of the ER. The hospital entrance and front wing were under construction, forcing us to walk down a very long, arctic cold hallway—more like a long handicap ramp. It seemed like an eternity before we walked to the end of that planked, unfinished maze, while Daddy carried Moma, still wrapped in the light-blue blanket.

I never felt so helpless and useless in all my life as we waited in the ER. The hospital workers took my Moma to a private room not too long after that. We spent a miserable and uncomfortable rest of the night there with Moma in a coma. The nurses reassured my brother and I that we were troopers through it all, but the truth is, we were scared out of our wits!

We would lose Moma this time. She had already given us a scare only two weeks before, and we knew she couldn’t last much longer in her weakened condition. Yet she had still held on.

We had said our goodbyes then. I had told her I loved her, and she had told me she loved me. Soon after that, I had prayed an unselfish prayer one night in my bedroom, “Lord please take my Moma home, so she don’t have to suffer anymore.” It took all the strength I had within me to voice those simple words. And then cry till it seemed I had no tears or soul left.

I had just turned fifteen not fifteen days before. I was young. Too young. And I was so scared to be alone, without my Moma. I did not want to see her go.

I look back now, and I can see she was holding out for the two children she had not seen yet—My oldest brother who lived in Florida and my middle sister who lived in Texas at the time. Everyone else had already said their goodbyes. Oh the love a mother has for her child! It’s stronger than any bond on earth I believe.

Moma had never felt that we kids needed to be shielded from death. I had attended more funerals growing up than I could shake a stick at. Honestly, I am grateful she raised us to be tough. To be strong. I think that has helped me hang on and live for God all these years. And be strong enough to face other difficulties of life.

I never knew a barely turned 15 year-old girl could feel like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders that night.. But I did. And that world was about to crumble and be turned upside down forever.

To be continued…


      • You said it dear sweet friend! And…this is exactly what I just wrote about in my final post. Time for me to shut down my blog and get to work on my failed marriage. Yes, it is a strange mystery how God can use pain to bring forth good. Strange indeed. Yet, this is what happens.
        Keep writing and sharing, Renee! Your story is inspiration for others. And your beautiful faith shines through your beautiful smile! It’s contagious! I’ll still be visiting and as always, sending lots of love and hugs your way.🤗💓🙃

        Liked by 2 people

      • This makes me want to cry Nina! I pray you do remember us here on WP! I hate to see you go! Please please visit, if you can’t post. 😭
        I will be praying for you and your husband. There is nothing too hard for the Lord to heal. I am also praying God heals my husband who has gotten so far away from God. Say a prayer for him as you pray for your own.
        I can’t see your last post…could you post a link here?


      • 1 Corinthians 7:14 English Standard Version (ESV)

        14 For the unbelieving husband is made holy because of his wife, and the unbelieving wife is made holy because of her husband…

        Now I’m all teary eyed again! I’ll still visit you—and pray for you too.
        Our husbands will once again realize just how blessed they are…give them time to go through their process—I know it’s difficult—but we are stronger than that! So much stronger…
        Even when it looks like we’ve gotten far away from God—and I know it might sound crazy—but God is still right there. There is no getting away, because where is God not? God IS everywhere. We may not realize it because we are that stubborn…but still, even in pain even in darkness God is right there. When your husband sees your lovingly beautiful smile and the brightness in your sparkly eyes—he feels the devotion in your heart. Guaranteed…it touches him. Even if he can’t quite admit it.
        I got “far away” (or so I thought) from God and nobody could bring me back—that only drove me further away. I was angry and too proud. I had to wrestle with God for a long time. I had my lessons to learn. I couldn’t just “accept”. I had to surrender.
        Oh goodness listen to me prattle on like I know what I’m talking about! Haha! Is there more sweet tea? I sure could use a refill!
        My prayer is that God watch over us all as we go through this process (you me and our husbands) and we learn patience with ourselves—and them.

        Liked by 2 people

      • I believe in the process, Nina. We have all pulled away from God at times. It’s the human side of us! And no matter how far we run, we can never outrun His love! If we make our bed in hell, behold He is there! (I would much rather make my bed in heaven though lol just saying 😆)
        The statement you made about him feeling the devotion in my heart really touched me! Thank you for prattling! You DO know what you are talking about! Sounds like you have lived it…Sometimes we have to wrestle God like Jacob until He blesses us….Here have another glass of tea….Lemon or plain?…..
        It’s no coincidence you spoke of “process” and “patience.” I read a devotion today that went along those lines…Patience is endurance of hope, the persevering stamina of trials, which flows from hope. Patience nourishes hope.
        Praying for us all! 🙂


      • Lemon please. A sprig of mint? Keep praying dear friend…here’s to God’s well fought for blessings. It’s in the wrestling that makes it so precious and real. 😊💖🌦🌈🐞🐌🐜🌞🐭🐣🌸🙃🧚‍♂️🌼🦋💓


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