The Hand of God
 
 
 
Today I would simply like to share a story of what happened when we went to deliver baskets at the hospital Saturday. For several years we have been taking baskets of fruit and snacks to the families in the ICU waiting room on the last Saturday of each month. We assemble the twenty baskets at church, then load them and drive to the hospital. We have done this so long it takes only about thirty minutes to be on the road to delivery. When we arrive, I, along with two or three others, borrow a cart to load the baskets on from the hospital gift shop which is right by the front entrance. We load them, pray, and then off to the second floor where everyone who receives a basket is always kind and thankful. The whole process only takes about an hour out of our Saturday. We are truly blessed for having given this little bit of time and effort to brighten someone's day with a little fruit and some snacks.
 
This ministry called the Basket Brigade has marched along smoothly until recently when we encountered a glitch, or a grinch - whichever you want to call it. This small problem began about four months ago when there was a new lady (a bit of a grinch) in the gift shop. She informed us that we could not borrow her cart, even if we only needed it for about five minutes. We could not borrow it in the sun. We could not borrow it on the run. We could not borrow it in the cold or in the hot. No, no, we simply could not.
 
We resorted to using a wheelchair that month. The next few months all was well and we found favor again with the gift shop and used the cart again. Until, alas last Saturday, there was yet another new lady (another grinch) working in the gift shop.
 
Once again when we were told, "NO CART FOR YOU!" So we assembled back by the car in the 104-degree heat to decide what we should do. There were three of us so we decided we would divide up the twenty baskets and carry them in by hand. Bad idea. Through the revolving doors, we marched in weaving ever so slightly as we tried to cling on to our precious cargo that was slipping and sliding.
 
Inside there was a man who attempted to come to our rescue, but we refused. He had a cart! Now it wasn't the flower shop cart, but a cart he had borrowed from a floor upstairs. He had observed the floor shop lady refusing us the use of her treasured cart. He said, " I am using this to take these flowers up to my mother. I will come and bring it back down to y'all when I get done with it if you want." We said, "No, thank you, we need to take these on up because we can't leave the car parked in the loading zone for a long time." He said, "Ok," and was on his way.
 
We continued to forge ahead until the baskets slowly and surely began to slip-slide away right out of our hands. At that point, we set them down and decided to once again resort to the use of a wheelchair to deliver them up to the second floor. In the waiting room, there were fewer people than normal and we had baskets leftover in the wheelchair. We decided we would give them out on another floor. We stepped inside the elevator still pushing the wheelchair and Kathy who was with me said, "Push 6." I did.
 
We parked the wheelchair by the elevator and picked up the remaining baskets in our hands. We gave one to a man boarding the elevator. He said, "thank you." I came to an open door and saw a patient in the bed sleeping. I sat one down on his nightstand. Around the corner, the ladies who were with me had stopped and were talking to guess who? The man from the front entrance. This was the floor his mother was on whom he had come to take the flowers to on the cart that he had offered to bring back down to us. As I got closer I saw there were tears and tissues ... Kathy handed me a basket and whispered, "6626."
 
I went to the room to deliver the basket and found a miracle. I met Jeff's (the cart offerer) mother who had been in ICU Thursday where her son was told that she had a one in ten chance of surviving. She actually died several times and they brought her back. Brenda survived and is praising God. She told me her story and Jeff's story; of how she wanted him and his wife Jennifer to get back to God and be really close to Him. We prayed together. It was a wonderful visit.
 
As I was about to leave Jeff came in and told me he had been down the hall praying for my friend who had known years ago at a place she once worked. He said, " I don't know it was like God was just all over me and God told me what to say to her and she just started weeping and we prayed." WOW! God.
 
Oh, and did I mention that Brenda Hand, Jeff's mom, the miracle, just happened to be the aunt of a boy (Mike Hand) whom I went to school with about forty-five years ago? I had a major confrontation with when I was in second grade. He was a bit of a bully back in the day and had jerked some colors from my hand. I never dreamed then that one day I would be at a hospital praying with his aunt. WOW! God.
 
Ok, so now you can draw your own conclusions from this little story about what God did Saturday at the hospital.
 
I learned a lesson that I thought I already knew but saw it play out right before my eyes.
When God takes something from you, there is a reason for it. When things don't go like you want them to, it is because God has a way He wants them to go.
 
When we attempt to be His hands and feet we have to truly place everything in God's hands. I have never seen the hand of God more clearly than I did Saturday when I was holding the hand of Brenda Hand in Room 6626.