I received

my latest report on Sybil last night. Before I tell you

what I heard, let me bring you up to date with excerpts

from recent columns.

March 10:

Life. It's strange, isn't it? The chords that tie total

strangers together can fall from nowhere to wind knots

never to be broken again.

Last night,

at 11:30 p.m. my phone rang. Lynda (my sister) was

calling from her car. That morning, she had insisted that

a hotel clerk in Bainbridge let her into the room of a

friend and business associate from out of town who had

not shown up at the office on time. She had immediately

taken the friend to a local hospital. Doctors at that

hospital had called for emergency transport to

Tallahassee Memorial Hospital where her life hangs in the

balance at this writing because of a leaking aneurysm.

My sister

has a very demanding job and she had a thousand things on

her plate yesterday. None of it mattered. Nothing

mattered except getting help for a friend. She could not

even think of herself, her work, or her own family, until

her friend's husband had arrived at the Florida hospital

last night. Then, and only then, could she walk away from

the situation.

March 17:

The Henry County woman (Sybil) that I wrote about last

week is still fighting for her life. Valiantly from what

I hear. Keep praying. They are going to try to take her

off the respirator today. My sister thinks a miracle is

in the making. Sybil's husband, family and friends are

with her, encouraging, stroking, praying, standing by

her. In America today, that alone is a miracle. We all

should rejoice, as we keep praying.

April 7: I

met Sybil yesterday and I may never be the same again.

I said last

week, "Prayer changes things. I know that it does. I

cannot prove that it does. I cannot convince any other

being of the power of prayer. Even when one hears a

prayer being offered up to God and watches events unfold

in direct answer to that prayer, even then there are

those who will rationalize the whole scenario. I've been

there. I know.

"I've

also prayed, that is, communed with God, and watched

miracles unfold after participating in such a powerful

act. And I have stood in absolute awe and indescribable

wonderment while observing the forces that come into play

when prayer is the catalyst. So, again, I know."

Well,

meeting Sybil allowed me to live the truth of both

avenues of knowing. An insurance professional for 32

years, she was in Bainbridge to train a new customer

service rep, when she did not show up as scheduled on a

Thursday morning. My sister went to the hotel to check on

Sybil, was assured she was okay, that she was just

sleeping in. Lynda walked to her car to leave. As she

reached for the door handle, her hand would not work. She

could not open the door. A little voice said, "Go

back."

She went

back...

Lynda knew

Sybil would live. I tried to prepare her for the fact

that she may never be "normal" again, even if

she lived. My sister would not hear of it. "You

don't understand," she would say. "God would

not have opened so many doors just to slam the last one

in our faces."

Now, I

didn't especially like her answer. I know too many people

who remain paralyzed or brain damaged or even comatose,

following ruptured aneurysms, accidents or serious

illness. So I, the nurse, was trying to prepare Lynda for

less than a perfect outcome. Lynda, the prayer warrior,

however, knew better.

And so

Lynda prayed. All that day and through the night while

Sybil's life hung in the balance, Lynda prayed. In an

effort to make me understand, my sister directed me to

Romans 8:25-27: "...if we hope for what we do not

see, with perseverance we wait eagerly for it. And in the

same way the Spirit also helps our weakness; for we do

not know how to pray as we should, but the Spirit Himself

intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words; and

He who searches the hearts knows what the mind of the

Spirit is, because He intercedes for the saints according

to the will of God..."

May 18: My

phone rang. It was Lynda with the update on Sybil.

"She's back at work. Full time. No more therapy.

She's as good as new. Maybe better. She called to thank

me for saving her life."

Lynda was

crying.

"What

did you say," I asked.

I told her

she should thank God. All I did was listen to Him. She's

just lucky that I was listening that day.

Sybil is a

walking, living, breathing miracle. How often have you or

I passed up the opportunity to participate in such a

miracle because we were not listening?