Why I Believe in Angels–3rd. in the series

“The good that comes to us in life—even the good that comes from God is sometimes mixed with distress.” Written by Dr. Stan Walters in a recent letter

The next morning at the General Hospital in Kingston, I was wheeled into the O.R. All this time I was totally unconscious. There the surgeon removed the round piece of skull that had been pushed down on the brain along with hair. (That was when I had a full head of hair.) And I suppose he did his best to remove the dirt and any other detritus that is in every cattle barn. The hospital put me in an adult ward for they wished me to have a quiet place. I don’t recall when I became conscious once again—it just happened. I do remember the kindness of an older sister, Keitha for she brought in ivory soap bars for me to carve into little animals. When I gave my wonderfully skilled carvings–excuse the hyperbole–to the nurses they were ecstatic.

The doctor passed on to the family just how close I had come to dying. The bolt had barely missed a major artery. With a severed artery I would have died right there in the barn. Remember this too—there were no antibiotics in those days but even so no infection followed the accident or surgery. The doctor explained that the bone would not grow back but that with time a cartilage would form protection. If the bone had grown back would that have made any difference in being a bonehead? This did occur—for a number of years after that accident, if I rubbed my fingers over that spot on my head I would feel it on the left of my face and a bit down by left side. I have a reminder with me of the mercies of God.

My nephew Allan when he was young often heard the story of this accident. He has mentioned to me that my dad used to say that God answered his prayers and saved my life. Once again I see in all of this a spiritual dimension beyond the world we know so well. Without doubt it is because of His angels am sitting at the computer writing this post.

I learned the hard way that I had to be careful about any blow to the head. It was in Bible School one day when during recess I was tussling with some of the boys and received a blow to the head. For almost two days I did not know who I was or where. I remember wandering around the school trying to sort it all out. A similar situation happened when I was studying in Kentucky. Some of us went to the gym across the street and there a few of us picked up boxing gloves. I am told I hit a chap too hard to his liking and since he knew something of boxing, he decked me. My friends lead me back across the street to my room for I was disoriented. Did the effects of that blow have stay with me?

Until I began to write this piece I had had forgotten the impression that this accident had on me. I was totally and still am convinced that it was God’s angels that watched over me during that time. They gave me back my life. Following that time, the sense of “owing” influenced my purpose in dedicating my life to my Lord. That commitment was small for how can a person recompense anyone for a “saved” life?

Too many strange things happened in that accident for me to chalk it all up to chance. God had sent his angels to change the course of my history. So may I suggest that you discard your doubts about angels for a time and let the strange and wonderful circumstances of life speak to you. Those “chances” will tell you about a spiritual dimension beyond this material world.

And I fervently believe this—angels are often seen through tears.

 

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One thought on “Why I Believe in Angels–3rd. in the series

  1. Grace Bush

    Oh, Roy this has been such a nice series of a true miracle. Head injuries do show up later. I know this because of my daughter and her head injury. You were put on this earth and left her for a reason that is for sure. Well done. I am heading out of town again so I have no idea when I will be back in writing class. Take care and enjoy these beautiful days. Grace

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