A confrontation with God

I was in the restroom at church when I heard the commotion from the sanctuary.  While washing my hands  my daughter rushed in to tell me that Tim had fallen.  I hurried in to find Tim sitting in his chair on the platform, people gathered around him.  He had fallen for no reason at all.  From what I was told, he was just walking across the platform and fell flat on his face.  I felt so badly for him.  A short time later we were sleeping soundly one night when I heard a tremendous crash and what sounded like a melon hitting the nightstand on Tim's side of the bed.  I flew out of the bed!  Tim was not there!  I ran around the end of the bed and there he was in a heap on the floor.  I screamed and ran to him fearing the worst.  He moaned and held his head, telling me that he had fallen out of the bed.  I inquired if I should dial 911, but he assured me he was okay.  I remember helping him back into the bed, my heart squeezing in my chest with pity for him.  Why were these things happening to him?  I still don't have an answer.  I tucked him in like a child, pulled the covers up under his chin and kissed him on the forehead.  My heart breaks when I recall his words to me before he drifted off to sleep.  "Thanks for not being mad at me."  Even now it brings a rush of tears.

As part of his duties for the Apostolic Man Ministry and their magazine, Tim was required to attend meetings several times a year at the UPCI Headquarters in St. Louis Missouri.  He went I believe in May, only a few short months before his death.  The day of his return will forever be burned into my memory.  I had just put my bathing suit on to go out and clean our pool when he called to tell me he was almost home from the airport.  He told me was very tired and wanted to go straight to bed when he arrived home.  He walked thru the door and at first nothing seemed out of the ordinary.  I did notice however that he was extremely disheveled, dark circles under his eyes, unshaven, etc.  And then, Tim began to exhibit the most bizarre behavior.

He hurried thru the house closing all the blinds, checking and double checking the locks on all the doors.  He proceeded to tell me not to answer the door or the phone making statements like "you never know who's watching, you can't trust anyone," etc.  It was at that point I noticed he had a wild and glazed look in his eye.  The phone rang and he yelled, "don't answer it, don't answer it!"  By now I was really starting to freak out but tried to remain calm.  I had him sit down in his favorite chair and made him something to drink.  I began to question him about his meetings and how they went, anything to keep him talking.  I wondered if perhaps something had transpired there that put him into this state of mind.

He began to ramble.  His statements were very disjointed and made no sense.  He started to cry, apologizing for things he felt guilty about in our marriage or as a parent, then just as quickly, he would stop crying and start rambling again.  I could not make sense of anything he was saying.  I was on the verge of retrieving my cell phone, dialing 911 and having an ambulance come.  I was ready to do just that when Tim's cell phone rang, it was Reverend Mike Williams, Director of the Apostolic Man Ministry.  Once I saw that Tim would be able to talk to Brother Williams coherently, I snuck my cell phone out to the pool with me.  I got into the pool under the guise that I was cleaning it, and for the first time in 26 years, I called Tim's mom and asked for her help and advice.

"Mom, this is Shawnacee and I need you to pray right now, Tim is really, really bad."  We prayed and I tried to explain to her Tim's behavior.  You must remember, his mother knew very little about the severity of Tim's illness.  I had done my best not to worry her with it.  While I was still on the phone, Tim came out to the pool, still in his suit, rambling and crying again.  I got out of the pool and took him into the house.  He eventually began to calm down as I helped him to undress and get into bed.  He was hungry so I went into the kitchen to prepare one of his favorites, peaches and cottage cheese.  I had a ladies meeting that evening, so I hurried and dressed, still beside myself with worry.  The picture of him lying in bed that night looking at me with tears streaming down his face as I left for my meeting will forever haunt me.

Tim slept for almost two days following that episode.  A week or so later he brought it up and apologized for scaring me.  I told him that I had been tempted to call for an ambulance.  He pleaded with me to never do that, saying his ministry would be ruined if that ever happened.  I begged him to see a psychiatrist.  He had been treated for years by his general practitioner but I felt that Dr. Thacker was ill equipped to properly treat   Tim.  I pleaded with him but he was in total denial, he did not want to hear what I had to say.  I believe that at that time, Tim suffered a "complete" and final nervous breakdown.

Several weeks passed and Tim seemed to have calmed down and was back into his normal daily schedule.  I recall one day in particular when I was unusually discouraged, disturbed.  I lay down next to Tim, hoping to take a little nap.  I could not sleep, my mind was racing, I was at the end of my rope.  I got up out of bed and threw some clothes on and jumped into my car.  I drove to my "hangout" Borders Bookstore, but did not go inside, I just sat there in the parking lot, air conditioner blowing cold on that hot, late June day........and God and I had it out.

I began to beat the steering wheel, seven years of pent up emotion erupted.  Tears streamed down my face as I pointed my finger at the sky and began to scream, "God if you have never heard me before, hear me now......it is over!!  Today, I draw a line in the sand God!"  I reminded God of our many years of faithful service, of the things we had sacrificed for His work, and I reminded him of His word.  I screamed, sobbed, ranted and raved at God for at least thirty minutes.  Anyone who saw me must have thought I was insane. Finally, completely exhausted from my outburst I lay my head on my steering wheel.  Chest heaving, tears and sweat pouring down my face, I sat, listening to the silence.  And in that silence, I felt the awesome, powerful presence of God and  I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I had gotten the attention of the Almighty.  I knew that He had seen and heard His pitiful, weary, exhausted and confused child.  Completely spent, I drove home.