STRENGTH IN THE STORM

“Keep alert, stand firm in your faith, be courageous, be strong. Let all that you do be done in love.”

In January 2004, our family was, once again, greatly blessed. Blessed by God, who knew to choose for this particular mission a woman who embodied this Bible verse just when we needed her most.

My husband Gary was recovering from hand surgery last January after doctors put a pin and a screw in his left pinky finger to correct a sports injury. The pin was due for removal within a few days from when our family accepted an invitation from our neighbors to go skiing at Blue Knob, Pa. Gary did not think there was much risk in making the trip since his hand was close to being healed.

A series of fast, unexpected and frightening events proved the contrary. On our second day, after an afternoon on the slopes with our daughter Claire, Gary returned to the house ashen and faint from pain in his finger. I had never seen him like this. He took pain medicine and the symptoms subsided slightly. However, through the course of the evening, the pain increased, and his finger became very swollen, red and inflamed. Then the metal pin in his finger was pushed out by the pus oozing out of the wound. We realized we were in trouble.

At the same time, a major blizzard had descended on the mountain. Furious snowfall and sub-zero temperatures surrounded us, even as Gary’s condition deteriorated. That is when God’s love for us, and within us, became manifest. At about 11 p.m., as we were chatting around the fireplace trying not to think about the pain, our friend Connie, quite out of the blue, asked Gary if he wanted her to take him to the hospital. He said yes. I was terrified. We were high up on a rugged mountain, a blizzard was raging and none of us knew where the hospital was. I asked them to wait until the morning, fearful that they would fall into a ditch and freeze to death in the blizzard.

So God chose Connie to be the one to stand firm, be strong and courageous, and out of compassion for her neighbor, attempt the dangerous journey to the hospital.

As they were leaving, she reassured me: “Don’t be worried, Elisabeth. Remember, I’m a captain!” (Connie had earned her captain’s sailing license a few months prior). En route, the windshield wipers froze twice, but, undeterred, Connie stood in the blizzard and coaxed them back to life.

All night I waited for a phone call, which due to poor cell phone reception, did not come until mid-morning. Gary was in very serious condition. As soon as the ER doctors saw him, they said, “I hope you won’t lose that finger . . . .” They started intravenous antibiotics immediately. The infection had entered his bone. In the subsequent nine days that Gary spent in a hospital (four days in Pennsylvania and then five in Virginia), he had two more surgeries and massive infusions of powerful antibiotics. That was followed by 40 days of intravenous infusions he administered to himself at home and at work through a tube surgically implanted in his arm.

No one knows for sure, but it is quite possible that the infection would have entered Gary’s bloodstream had we waited until morning to seek medical attention. I believe that God knew that we were in a potentially life-threatening situation, and He picked Connie to come to the rescue. Her faith in her own ability to get Gary to the hospital, her strength, courage and compassion saved Gary. Thank you, God, for choosing Connie.

— Elizabeth Russell

Courtesy of The Church of the Good Shepherd United Methodist