On Father’s Day, June 19, 1994, my life was about to change, and I didn’t have a clue. It started out as a normal Sunday. I prepared to go to church while Marvin, my husband was up and about, talking of moving his airplane. Some months before he had taken it apart and brought it home to do some work on it, and to try to find a less expensive place to hangar it. He had finally gotten it back together and found a place about 20 minutes from our home to keep it. It was a grass strip and much cheaper than what he had found at the Craven County Airport. During the time the plane was down for repair, Marvin had toyed with the idea of trying to fly the plane from the road on which we live. It is a rural area, and not heavily traveled. I pointed out several obstacles to him such as overhanging tree limbs, and power lines that criss-crossed from one side of the road to the other, not to mention all the roadside mailboxes and paper boxes. Then he thought about the large bean field just up the road from our home. This was something I didn’t really think he was serious about since it was already planted, and the soy beans were well into their growing stage. There was also a private road that belonged to his dad for access to our children’s homes and his dad’s home. There again though, were many obstacles of power lines, mail boxes and ruts from rain. So, as I left to go take his dad a father’s day present, I was pretty certain that he would remove the wings and use his dad’s trailer to move the plane. While at his dad’s, I mentioned that Marvin would probably want to borrow the trailer, and his dad said to tell him that would be fine. But when I returned home, Marvin was already gone. I assumed he had decided to wait till another day, and gone to the airport to find some friends to talk to about flying. I went to church.

During the praise and worship service, as we sang and ministered to the Lord, I felt the presence of the Lord very strongly. We were singing , “Keep on praying, in the Spirit; at all times with all kinds of prayer; Ephesians 6:18 says, ‘keep on praying.’�?And as we sang, I began to pray fervently for each of my family members, and finally for Marvin. As I began to pray, it was with my understanding, but as I began to pray for Marvin, the Spirit of the Lord took over, and I prayed in the heavenly language God had given me. As the praise service progressed I began to worship the Lord totally, with my hands raised and eyes closed. Suddenly, I sensed a presence near me, and could hear someone praying in the Spirit. Then I felt a soft touch on my forehead, then my right hand, and lastly on my right foot. I knew the Lord had chosen to minister to me, and opened my eyes to see who had been the chosen vessel, but saw no one. I looked to see if anyone was moving around, but no one was. I began to wonder if I had imagined it, so I touched my forehead, and there I felt the oil that was on it. I knew the Lord had ministered to me, but I didn’t know why, nor through whom at that time.

The service continued with a couple of special music presentations, and then my pastor rose to bring the Word of the Lord. He was only a few minutes into the message when one of the nursery attendants motioned to me that I had a telephone call in the church office. As I approached her, I could see she was upset, and she said, “I am so sorry, it is bad news.�?When I reached the phone, my daughter was on the line. She told me her dad had crashed the plane, and was being transported to the hospital.

I cannot explain the calm and peace that swept over me as I exited the church. Even after I saw Marvin as they removed him from the ambulance at the hospital; the peace that passes all understanding remained on me. They were working diligently on him, and would not permit me to get close enough to talk to him, so I yelled out, �?I’m here, and I’ll be with you as soon as they will let me.�?I could hear him groaning in pain, but I still did not know how badly he was injured.

As I waited, I was told what had happened. Marvin had gone to the gas station to get gas for the plane when I returned to tell him he could get his dad’s trailer. He had called his brother to ask for help to get the plane to the field. His brother didn’t come fast enough, so he went to get our son, but he had gone to town to find his dad a present for Father’s Day. Then he found my daughter’s husband and asked him to help, and he did. They took up and put down mailboxes along the road to get the plane to the field. Once there, Marvin taxied across the field to check it out, and as he was returning, he must have thought he had enough room and accelerated, and took off. After getting airborne, he almost immediately had to turn, because of power lines and trees. The field was bordered on two sides with wooded areas, and two sides with roads. He had very little lift, and as he began to turn, the woods were coming up fast, so he went to a full bank. When he did, he lost power, and lift and slipped to the earth. As my son-in-law watched, the plane crashed, and he thought it would be okay, because he had gotten so little altitude, but as the wing collapsed, and the engine struck, it exploded. He was certain as he ran to try to help that he would not be alive when he got there. He was amazed that Marvin had gotten himself out of the plane, and had stripped himself of most of the burning clothes, and began to tell my son-in-law what to do to help him. He told him to not touch him except to put his arms underneath his armpits to pull him into the shade, out of the sun. My son-in-law would not tell all that Marvin said: he believed it was done privately. He did however say that he made his peace with the Lord, said he would never fly again, and would probably lose his legs, and asked him not to leave him. Marvin’s dad had heard the explosion and seen the smoke, and came to the field to find his son, alive, but badly burned. He lost it, but Marvin calmed him by telling him to shut up and calm down. A passer-by was asked to call an ambulance, and after they had, they brought blankets to cover him. When the rescue squad arrived, he was still conscious, and told them not to touch him and maneuvered himself onto the stretcher. Knowing the severity of his burns, he remained conscious, and in control.

Over the next hour or so, the nurses, the chaplain, and finally the doctor, informed me how serious his condition was. They gave me no hope. But the Lord had given me irrevocable peace that everything was going to be all right. To me that meant healing, and I told everyone to believe for just that, and not to pray any other way. Family members gathered, and I remember the granddaughter of one of Marvin’s uncles was so frightened and upset that I wanted to comfort her. I began to sing, �?Ain’t no rock gonna cry in my place,�?demonstrating all the hand and body motions as I sang. She smiled and seemed more at ease. Her grandmother, on the other hand, thought I was having a nervous breakdown, and wanted my children to ask the doctor to sedate me. Approximately 30 family members, friends and church family gathered there at the hospital prior to Marvin being airlifted to the burn center at Chapel Hill. When I was finally allowed to see him, he had been intubated, a procedure to keep his throat from swelling shut. The doctor had told me he would not be able to respond to me, but that he could understand me. I could barely get close to him, there were still so many doctors, nurses, and technicians around him. I honestly can’t remember exactly what I said to him, except that I loved him and would be there to help him get through this.

When the helicopter arrived to take him they brought him out to the ambulance to transport him to the heliport. The doctor allowed family and friends there to see him , because he didn’t think he would survive the flight. Marvin had third degree burns on both legs, both arms, and second and third degree burns on his chest, face, and back. The only area not burned on his entire body was his buttocks, and groin.

Against the doctor’s advice, I drove to Chapel Hill; my daughter rode with me. I played praise tapes and sang. My daughter and I encouraged each other in the Lord, as I related to her what had happened to me at church that morning. My son and his wife followed in their car. Upon arrival at UNC, we saw the nurse and pilot of the helicopter. They said he made the trip okay, and perhaps we would be able to see him by the time we got upstairs. We rang the burn center when we got there, but they told us the doctor would be out to see us shortly. Fear tried to rise up in me, but I began to cast it out. The doctor took us into the chapel, and there told us how serious his burns were. He said his best chance for survival would probably be to amputate his legs, but he did not recommend it. He also said the only reason they would even try to save him was because there were some areas of second degree burns that might heal on their own. In addition, he also said from his experience, with this large an area of burn there was practically no chance of survival. He did say however, that should he survive, they would start removing the dead tissue on Wednesday, but he did not expect that he would survive that long. All the news was bad, but I reminded the children that he was only a doctor and not God. I told them, and the doctor that Marvin was a fighter, and could beat the odds. We all agreed not to consider amputation unless it became necessary due to damage from the burns. The doctor suggested we authorize what he called a “no-code�? which meant they would not try to revive him should he expire. My children became very upset over this, and insisted that every thing medically possible be done to give him the opportunity to live. We could tell the doctor did not like our decision, because he didn’t expect Marvin to survive the night.

During the night Marvin became conscious enough to somehow communicate to the nurse. She told us he was concerned about us. She told him we were there, and would get us. Before we got back to his room, he had slipped into the semi-conscious state that he remained in. To the surprise of the doctors and nurses, Marvin survived the night. As morning arrived, they stopped us from seeing him. His condition deteriorated. My daughter became so upset that she asked to speak with the doctor to find out why we had been shut out, especially since it was obvious that he would hold his ground and improve the more we could be with him. The doctor explained there were a lot of tests and work to be done, and felt that we would be in the way. My daughter insisted that at least I be able to be with him, and the doctor finally relented. He survived another night. The next day however, his kidneys started shutting down, he became acidotic, and his blood pressure and body temperature were dangerously low. The doctor wanted to give up, but Marvin nor I were ready to.

The doctor suggested an abdomen tap to see if there was a rpture inside Marvin’s stomach which might be causing the acidosis. He said that he probably wouldn’t survive the procedure, but if he did it might help if they found something that could be fixed. We agreed to the test, and I was permitted to stay with him almost up to the time of the test. I found myself a corner in the burn center where I could be alone with the Lord and pray . As fear overwhelmed me, I meditated on the word God had given me, “You shall live and declare the works of the Lord.�?If you know the scripture, you may notice the words, “not die�? were left out. I had been speaking this word of Marvin, singing the word, and quoting every scripture the Lord gave me. Only life and healing were spoken in his room as long as I had any control over it. I was deep in meditation when a nurse tapped me on the shoulder and told me I had to leave. The doctor was about to perform the tap. I prayed, found a nurse who would be in the room during the procedure, and told her, “not that I believe he will die, but in case I missed what the Lord is saying somehow, if Marvin begins to slip away, please tell him I’ll see him in the rapture.�?She assured me she would, as I went out to wait and pray.

He survived the tap, even in his weakened state. All day we encouraged him to try to urinate, to get his kidneys working. We also spoke to his heart to work harder to keep his blood pressure up. That night, my sister arrived. She is a great prayer warrior, full of faith, and I finally felt at peace about leaving to get a few hours sleep. He survived the night. A very stunned doctor, found not only had he survived, but his kidneys were trying to function, even if only slightly, and his blood pressure, though quite low, had stabilized. In fact, the surgery he had told us he would perform on Wednesday, should he survive, he had canceled the night before, being sure he wouldn’t survive the night. Now, having determined from the tap that there were no ruptures, it became necessary to operate to remove the dead tissue which was causing the acidosis. He planned the surgery for that afternoon, since this was probably going to be the best possible conditions we could hope for medically. The doctor said the legs would have to come off due to the severity of the burns to give him any chance for survival. I stayed with Marvin as much as possible to build him up in the word. After I was sent out, I again found a secluded spot in which to cry and pray. This time I knew that I must be willing, as Jesus was in the garden of Gethsemane to say, “not my will, but thine be done.�?It was the hardest words I ever uttered. They allowed me to go in just before taking him to surgery. I tried desperately to prepare him spiritually for the battle ahead. I fully believed he would make it through this also. I told him I would be waiting for him when he returned to his room.

As I left the room, I found one of the doctors I had been allowed to witness to at length. I told her the same thing I had told the nurse prior to the abdomen tap. She agreed to tell him for me. Just prior to the surgery, the Lord gave me opportunity to speak with the primary doctor concerning his faith. I asked him if he was a Christian. He confessed that he was, but not a good one. I realized then that most of the time most of us who are Christians, aren’t “good�?ones. He told me that in 30 years of practicing medicine, no one had ever asked him about his faith.

It was 3:30 Wednesday when they took Marvin to surgery, and I turned to Psalm 118 to read the scripture text the Lord had given me, and my eyes fell instead on a scripture on the opposite page that I had highlighted at some time past: “precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.�?My heart wrenched and the tears just came, but I fought back and began to claim Psalm 118:17. But, before I could even finish reading, the doctor came, tapped me on the should and said, “nothing good happened down there.�?/P>

As soon as the anesthetic took effect, Marvin died. They tried to revive him to no avail. I was hurt, but not devastated; God had shown me in his word, and already prepared me for the outcome. Later, as we collected ourselves to return home, my daughter told me that we had gotten every thing we prayed for. He did not lose any limbs, he is healed, and he is alive forevermore.

My son, however, had not found peace concerning his dad’s salvation. We all rode home together, and about 50 miles up the road, my son said he was hungry. We stopped to get something for him to eat. As we got back on the road, he asked me, “how many days did Jesus spend in hell (grave)? He said his dad had survived 3 days, burned, but now had been taken to heaven. He found his peace.

Over the next couple of days, God continued to work in marvelous ways. Marvin and I hadn’t made any plans concerning dying, other than our wills. We didn’t have burial lots, or anything like that. My first thought was that he should rest close to his mother. My sister just “happened�?to know the woman who handled the cemetery lots where his mother was buried, and made the call to see if there was anything available in that section. The woman told my sister that no lots had been sold in that section for years, because it was full, but she would check anyway. To her surprise, there was one lot available, but she wanted to make an on-site verification, and would get back to us. She did, and the lot that was available, “just happened�?to be right beside Marvin’s mother who had passed away twenty six years before. God saved that lot for Marvin.

I asked my pastor to perform the funeral service, even though I knew it would be painful for him. He asked me if I had anything in particular I wanted said, or scripture I wanted read. I told him the Lord would give what was needed. My only request was that he speak to the living.

In April of that year, the public television station had a fund drive. Marvin and I happened to watch one evening when a musician named Yanni was performing live at the Acropolis in Greece. The music was uplifting and exhilarating. Marvin loved it. They were selling tapes for sixty dollar donations, much more than we felt we could spend for them. The concert aired a few more times during the month and he watched it most every time. I began a search for the music and finally found one tape called “Celebration of Life.�?I bought it to give him for Father’s Day, but decided that night to give it to him so we could go ahead and enjoy it. I’m so glad I did. He played it constantly. Why do I tell you this, the title of that tape that Marvin loved, which we also played in his room at UNC, was also the title which the Lord gave to my pastor to speak on. My pastor knew nothing about the music tape.

My children all pulled together to assist with the funeral arrangements. My church family, friends, neighbors, and people I didn’t even know rallied to meet every need before it arose. God moved on people’s hearts to pray for us and gave us strength to carry on and even to rejoice in our sorrow. My God took care of everything, exceedingly abundantly above all I could think or ask, and he did it through the people our lives had touched.

Psalm 118:17 was the scripture God had given me, be he gave two other witnesses. Before Marvin was taken in the helicopter, when family and friends were allowed to speak to him, I learned that my pastor had whispered this same scripture into Marvin’s ear. My niece’s husband had been away in another state, but called me at the hospital and gave me the scripture location he had been praying. It was the same scripture.

God ordered all our steps that Father’s Day, and the days that followed. I finally learned that it was a dear friend who had been my anointing, praying “angel�?the Lord used to prepare me for what was ahead. My greatest desire now is to see this work completed. I can clearly see the glory God would have received had Marvin survived, whether through medicine or miracle. All who saw and knew his condition, and had no faith in his survival, would have seen the hand of God working in his life. But since the Lord did not heal him physically, I must believe that there is a greater glory for God in his physical death. The fact that we prayed for no loss of limbs, God will not suffer one of these who have seen and heard our witness to be lost. Who can know to what extent God will heal physically, mentally, and spiritually. Our stand in the Word to live and not die and declare the works of the Lord will prevail against the gates of hell and Satan will have no power over us. We also prayed not our will but thine be done. We placed our complete trust in God to perform His will to work all things together for our good, because we love Him and we are the called according to His purpose. Someone asked me during this time how I was able to bear these things and still praise the Lord. The Lord gave me this answer: “I may have lost a few years here on earth with Marvin, but I have gained him for eternity in heaven. What is a few years when measured against forever.�?/P>

In conclusion, it has now been over eight years since my husband died. I wish I could say that all the things I believed were accomplished. But God’s time is not my time. He is still working out His perfect will in my lives and those of my family. I can honestly say that I have never been any closer to God than I was those three days, and I look for the day when I can commune once again with God so intimately. Truly God meets us at our point of need, desperation and sorrow. Shamefully, we only look for Him during those times.