Friday, August 18, 2017

in the Nick of time











There is an old Mafia term called buckwheats, which refers to slow beatings, and this has been a week of buckwheats.  Starting Monday with being stung by a bee for the third time in three weeks, to no treatment at the ER, to finally being bullied and lied to when I complained, it has been tough.  Physically I have suffered only mildly this time from the sting, headaches and swelling, but have lost sleep over it.  Emotionally it is tough when you are lied to and then bullied, but somehow my spirits haven’t wavered, well maybe a bit, but God got me through to Friday again. But if it was a stormy Monday, by Thursday I was tired, and then Thursday hit.  It was my mother’s 89th birthday, and her sharp mind didn’t recognize my voice.  Then the news broke about Barcelona, and as Christopher and I watched, he knew the area, it was right where he had lived for three summers.  Fortunately his friends there are OK, some frantic calls to them had good news they were safe.  And he was here and safe, bringing my truck back from LA to help me move a bed for a mom and her two daughters, who had previously been homeless, but now called Dustin Arms home.  I had put the call out for a bunk bed, must be metal due to bugs, and no response for weeks, until Sam and Kay came through.  Two long time street ministers of the gospel, they saw one while driving around and got it, a trundle bed, only God would have thought of that, we were thinking bunks due to room size, but it had no mattresses.  They too fly under the radar, and provide clothes and bedding for us at Dustin Arms, along with the time they spend on the street.  Like me, no income, but God provides all they have and need.  We need more Sam and Kays.  But when I called Nick to bring it down, and he was bummed because of no mattresses, I told him we would go to the Salvation Army where I bought two.  And the bed and mattresses were home, their new home, and I was on my way home.
My ER experience was still being ignored by the hospital, and so I went by, wanting to just end it, but walked into the lion’s den much as Daniel had.  A nurse in charge who had been sorta friendly, now turned on me, tried to bully me, and intimidate me with a security guard.  He was trying to bait me, I didn’t go for it somehow.  And when I confronted his lies, he kept shouting “I don’t like the feeling you are giving me.”  Then told me I was no longer welcomed there, I should leave, and I left.  Stunned and amazed a caregiver would treat me like that, and that a professional would lie when we both knew the truth.  But I was still determined to have justice, and the agencies, both state and federal I had contacted began to call back.  It was then I knew that Jesus had been with me that afternoon as he had all week, for his truth, his light was shining through me, and the darkness couldn’t stand it.  That was the feeling he didn’t like.  I didn’t so much feel God’s presence as I knew he was there, as he always is.  Then just as we are getting ready to eat dinner, I get a fact twisted email from the hospital telling me they have investigated the issue, they did no wrong, and this time a verbal bullying, which I read in dismay.  More lies, more bullying, first the physical, this guy was at lest 5 inches taller than me and looked like Sgt. Rock, now in words.  Then a second email arrived, from the chairman of the board of the hospital, she was looking into it.  I felt some relief, then Nick called.  With great news, and the message I needed to hear.  Just in the Nick of time....
It seems the mother had a restraining order against the father of the girls, and he turned to the courts telling them she was living in squalor, and the kids should be removed.  They had been sleeping on the floor or sharing an air mattress, and the social worker had just shown up to investigate the complaint.  What she found was the new bed, see the pictures, and no evidence of neglect.  The worker later told Nick if there had been no bed, she would have been forced to take the kids.  In the Nick of time, God was there, preserving the family, and showing is love.  From Sam and Kay finding the bed and bringing it to my house, supplying the sheets, bedding, and pillows, to Christopher and I delivering it, to Lucious and Kelly taking it upstairs, and  Nick putting it together and dealing with the social worker, God had used us all to be his hands and feet.  And to reap his blessings.  All glory to him, for in the lion’s den, in the fire, and on the street, he never left us nor forsook us.  A testimony I hope you are encouraged by and share with others. 
Psalm 23 tells us that though we walk through the shadow of death, that death cannot touch us.  The evil that is out there cannot stand in the light of Jesus, and when we walk in that light, it must flee.  God has everything in control, if only we can see that in the process rather than when we look back. 
The Lord has called me to be a advocate to those who don’t have anyone, and in the ER situation I had to be my own advocate.  At first I felt alone, and I was wrong, as he was my advocate the whole time, and justice will be done.  Jesus is my defender, and his strength is made perfect in my weakness.  This week we took on the government, ER abuses, and the lies of the world and God has strengthened us because we turned to him and let him.  Even when being physically bullied, I could stand firm, and even when a family was threatened by breakup, God was right there.  With this closing note.
The numbers of those killed by terrorists is staggering.  We focus on them, but neglect to remember the individuals involved.  Those who died, those who were maimed, and those emotionally scarred for life.  Scripture tells us about Jesus returning for the one in 99, and we are that one he returned for.  His love is individual and personal, intimate.  Don’t be wowed by statistics, God isn’t, and the polls don’t effect him either.  He is there for each one of us, no matter the crowd size, the casualty list, or the size of the lion.  Today, Friday, I can look back and know that.  I only wish I had that same confidence on Monday.  For like the old blues songs says, “they call it stormy Monday, Tuesday’s just as bad.”  But for every Good Friday Jesus has promised an Easter morning.  Two little girls and their mom slept good last night as a reminder of how he never forgets.  And how he never is late, but always there in the Nick of time!
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com