The Faith Of A Child
Stories
Sharing Visions
Divine Revelations, Angels, And Holy Coincidences
As an eleven-year-old pitcher for the Rockies Little League softball team, Karen was having a great night. The Rockies were winning, and Karen was taking an active role in her team's progress toward the championships in our mid-size midwestern community.
With the bases loaded and two outs, the pressure was on Karen. She pitched a ball outside home plate, the catcher missed it, and the player on third base started running for home. Karen ran up to cover home plate, and she caught the ball thrown by the catcher just as the runner was coming into home. As she was tapping the runner out, however, something very strange happened. The ball popped up in the air and Karen collapsed, screaming out in pain. As any mother would, I ran to her. She pointed to her right leg. I took hold of her foot and it flopped loosely, connected to her leg only by the flesh.
The EMT's were unable to splint Karen's leg or ankle, and could only support it loosely with a blanket. As we rode over the bumpy field and poorly maintained road to the hospital, Karen continued to scream out in pain. About halfway to the hospital, however, she suddenly became silent. I was sitting next to her, holding her hand, and looked at her, then at the EMT holding her leg. He seemed not to notice the change in Karen. She had an odd look on her face, her eyes weren't quite closed and seemed focused toward her left leg. For a moment I thought maybe she had died. I said, "Karen, are you still with us?" She ever so gently squeezed my hand, and somehow I knew she was okay. She was silent the rest of the trip, and seemed oddly at peace.
After getting her settled in the emergency room, I asked her about the sudden silence. She calmly said, "Oh, Jesus came to me and told me I was going to be all right. I have five angels surrounding me."
Totally taken by surprise, I said, "You do?"
"Why, yes, can't you see them?" And she proceeded to describe where they were, surrounding her bed.
Early the next morning, as she was being prepared for surgery, Karen asked me a question. "Mama, what if the reason Jesus came to me last night was because he is going to take me home?"
Karen is our only child. I have always thought losing one's child was the worst, most intolerable thing that could happen to a parent. But somehow that morning I had no fear. Probably because God had blessed my Punkin with his presence, I was filled with an indescribable peace. I looked at Karen, right in the eyes, and said, "Punkin, don't you worry about a thing. If you see a bright light, you go for that light, because it will mean that is what's best." She seemed satisfied with that answer.
It was one thing to get through all of this and not submit to the tears that were begging release. I let them flow when we were just outside of the operating room together. Karen suddenly quoted several scripture verses. I didn't know she had any memorized! Her father calmly said, "Are those the verses you're going to take into surgery with you?" She said, "Yes," and my tears broke loose, not in fear, but in awe. I was in awe of the faith of this child, and understood in a new way what Jesus meant when the taught that we must have the faith of a child in order to see the kingdom of heaven. Karen looked up at me, saw my tears, and said, "Don't worry, Mama, the angels will take care of you."
"Are there angels here?"
"Of course, Mama! Don't you see them. There's two right there by your head!"
Naturally, Karen came through the surgery and recovery just fine.
Several months later, I asked Karen if the experience had changed her, faith-wise. I knew that my faith was much greater! She thought about it for a minute, shrugged, and said, "Oh, I don't know. I've always believed in God."
Karen had never had a serious accident or injury before, and it just made sense to her that God would come to her in her need.
"Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 18:2).
With the bases loaded and two outs, the pressure was on Karen. She pitched a ball outside home plate, the catcher missed it, and the player on third base started running for home. Karen ran up to cover home plate, and she caught the ball thrown by the catcher just as the runner was coming into home. As she was tapping the runner out, however, something very strange happened. The ball popped up in the air and Karen collapsed, screaming out in pain. As any mother would, I ran to her. She pointed to her right leg. I took hold of her foot and it flopped loosely, connected to her leg only by the flesh.
The EMT's were unable to splint Karen's leg or ankle, and could only support it loosely with a blanket. As we rode over the bumpy field and poorly maintained road to the hospital, Karen continued to scream out in pain. About halfway to the hospital, however, she suddenly became silent. I was sitting next to her, holding her hand, and looked at her, then at the EMT holding her leg. He seemed not to notice the change in Karen. She had an odd look on her face, her eyes weren't quite closed and seemed focused toward her left leg. For a moment I thought maybe she had died. I said, "Karen, are you still with us?" She ever so gently squeezed my hand, and somehow I knew she was okay. She was silent the rest of the trip, and seemed oddly at peace.
After getting her settled in the emergency room, I asked her about the sudden silence. She calmly said, "Oh, Jesus came to me and told me I was going to be all right. I have five angels surrounding me."
Totally taken by surprise, I said, "You do?"
"Why, yes, can't you see them?" And she proceeded to describe where they were, surrounding her bed.
Early the next morning, as she was being prepared for surgery, Karen asked me a question. "Mama, what if the reason Jesus came to me last night was because he is going to take me home?"
Karen is our only child. I have always thought losing one's child was the worst, most intolerable thing that could happen to a parent. But somehow that morning I had no fear. Probably because God had blessed my Punkin with his presence, I was filled with an indescribable peace. I looked at Karen, right in the eyes, and said, "Punkin, don't you worry about a thing. If you see a bright light, you go for that light, because it will mean that is what's best." She seemed satisfied with that answer.
It was one thing to get through all of this and not submit to the tears that were begging release. I let them flow when we were just outside of the operating room together. Karen suddenly quoted several scripture verses. I didn't know she had any memorized! Her father calmly said, "Are those the verses you're going to take into surgery with you?" She said, "Yes," and my tears broke loose, not in fear, but in awe. I was in awe of the faith of this child, and understood in a new way what Jesus meant when the taught that we must have the faith of a child in order to see the kingdom of heaven. Karen looked up at me, saw my tears, and said, "Don't worry, Mama, the angels will take care of you."
"Are there angels here?"
"Of course, Mama! Don't you see them. There's two right there by your head!"
Naturally, Karen came through the surgery and recovery just fine.
Several months later, I asked Karen if the experience had changed her, faith-wise. I knew that my faith was much greater! She thought about it for a minute, shrugged, and said, "Oh, I don't know. I've always believed in God."
Karen had never had a serious accident or injury before, and it just made sense to her that God would come to her in her need.
"Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 18:2).
